


That's How You Know

by sunshinelollipops (pandapop)



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, BUT ITS VERY LIGHT I PROMISE, But a heart-melting cute kind of weird, Fluff, Happiness-only zone, He warms up to it tho, Kinda, M/M, Ryan is confused, Shane is weird, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Yes I tagged it twice fight me, eventually, multiple marriage proposals, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-06-27 08:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15681351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandapop/pseuds/sunshinelollipops
Summary: “Hey Ryan,” Shane says one day, rolling his chair closer to his. “Will you marry me?”So this is how it started.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched a certain movie I will NOT name, but any disney fans who can figure out where the title comes from, I love you.  
> Other than that not giving anything away because I absolutely freaking love this idea and well, hopefully you all will too :) This is literally just a getting together fluff story fueled by Shane's adorable weirdness lmao. But very, VERY light angst will be in the mix somewhere because I cant help myself.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Day 1_

“Hey Ryan,” Shane says one day, rolling his chair closer to his. “Will you marry me?”

So this is how it started.

With two normal coworkers minding their own businesses at their shared desk, a pleasant hum decorating the atmosphere of the Buzzfeed offices. Work is piling up as usual, and there’s new Supernatural research to be made and new scripts to write with the new True Crime season currently airing. It seemed so normal, so ordinary. And then this shit happens.

Ryan doesn’t spit out his coffee—he chokes on it.

The pleasant hum gets distorted by the action, other people around the area looking over to see the commotion, but Ryan’s mind doesn’t really process them as important right now.

He sputters the rest of his drink out and deals with his predicament under the desk while Shane nonchalantly pats his back, as if he didn’t just ask the most life-committing question a man could ever ask to a…well, someone.

But it’s Ryan.

_Why Ryan?!_

Still heaving, Ryan manages to look up at him, bewildered and stammering a choked out “What?”

Shane tilts his head, brows knitting together, still patting Ryan’s back. “Is that a no?”

“What? W-Wha—just— _what_?” Ryan pulls himself together and pushes Shane’s knee to make him roll back. Away from him. From the source of his confusion. He ignores the looks of concern from his coworkers from his peripheral vision, focusing his gaze on the expectant look on Shane’s face. As if he’s waiting for an answer.

_Seriously?_

He should be the one getting the answers right now.

His prolonged stare of disbelief is cut by the shrug of Shane’s shoulders. “So I guess that’s a no then.” He pushes back with his stupidly long legs, rolling back to his side of the desk and going back to work as if nothing just happened.

Ryan gapes at him. He runs a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at Shane, _then_ looks at Shane. Or at least tries to without his eyes bulging out of his sockets. Nope, he can’t do it. This is unbelievable. Unbelievable!

(He does look back eventually anyway.)

He rolls his chair back, past his laptop and directly into Shane’s chair, forcing it to face him and huddle their heads together. The bastard has the audacity to look confused as he did so. It’s driving Ryan mad.

“Do—“ Ryan sighs _. What the hell is even happening?_ “Do you even _understand_ what you were trying to ask me?”

“Uh, I don’t know what you mean. Why are we whispering?” Shane raises an eyebrow, but Ryan could see the amusement practically leaking out of his innocent smile.

Then his eyes widen, and Ryan pushes back again, one hand gripping the desk.

“Oh, I get it now.”

_It’s for a video_ , Ryan concludes.

_They must be doing shit like ‘Best Friends Spontaneously Proposing to Each Other’ or something. Probably Kelsey’s idea._ A small laugh bubbles up at his chest. He feels a bit like a fool now. They’ll probably bring him in for questioning later but don’t want to reveal the bit now, in case the others try it as well. Good good. The sudden realization makes Ryan laugh, though it comes out more nervously than he’d like. “Cool, haha. Sorry about that man. I get it.”

Shane’s confused smile subtly hinted at a frown. Just a little. He leans back in his chair. “I don’t think you do.”

Ryan turns back to his laptop just as Shane does, trying not to let the words get to him. _It’s for the bit!_ Ryan reminds himself. Shane probably thinks he can hide the bit but Ryan knows better. He works at fucking Buzzfeed. He puts his headphones on and hums to himself, sure about himself. Maybe by the end of the day or sooner, somebody will finally reveal the bit and drag him and Shane into a room for questions and shit and he won’t have to worry about the fact that his best friend is maybe, potentially, actually, seriously asking him to marry him because _it’s just for a video Ryan_.

Just for a video.

In fact, people work fast, they might reveal the bit sooner than he thinks.

The day, however, eventually does end. Nobody comes up to them, and Shane leaves at five as he normally does on Tuesdays, giving Ryan a pat on the shoulder and a goodbye on the way out.

_Maybe tomorrow_. Ryan assures himself, ignoring the tingling of nerves under the shirt where Shane touched.

* * *

 

_Day 2_

“Hey Ry, will you marry me?”

Holy shit.

Shane nearly breaks his spine slouching down when Ryan tugs at his hand harshly before dragging him away from the break room, giving his coworkers a reassuring smile before shoving the tall man into the closest props closet possible. Ryan shuts the door behind him, letting his frown take place. Shane just quirks a brow back, his figure dim in the dark space of the closet.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Ryan hisses under his breath, frown deepening when Shane only seems to look confused again, hand subconsciously picking dust off of his sleeves. Ryan swats it away. “Just—what the hell are you doing? What is this? Care to explain to me why you’re being so weird?”

“…wait, so would you prefer if I ask in private?”

Ryan blinks at him. “Um, what?”

“Well—“

“No. No no no, why would you—you even ask in the first place? Hello? We’re not even in a relationship! Us!” Ryan raises both hands, heavily gesturing to the both of them. “And you’re asking if I want to _marry_ you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Holy fuck—okay, okay you got me.” Ryan rubs a hand across his face, then starts laughing nervously. “Alright guys, are you satisfied? Can we get this over with now?”

Shane puts his hands on his hips, a pensive look on his face before he seemed to get what Ryan was implying. “Who are you talking to?”

“Oh, you can stop playing now Shane!” Ryan ribs him playfully, then walks around the closet trying to peer behind boxes and looking up at the corners. “Come on guys! Geez, where are the cameras?”

“Wait, wait, wait. You…” Ryan turns back just in time to catch the agitated look on Shane’s face. “Dude…Ryan.”

“What? What is it Shane? This is for a video right? Come on.” Shane doesn’t laugh when Ryan does, making the latter quiet down immediately. “…Shane?”

“Ryan.” Shane looks at him, dead in the eye. “I’m serious.”

For a moment, Ryan just stares at Shane in silence, the smile frozen on his face and quickly growing tighter by the minute. He watches— _searches_ Shane’s face through the dark for any sign of humor, anything that would indicate he was kidding and that what he was asking of him was just to make him the butt of some sick joke.

He swallows when he couldn’t find it.

“Y-You? Shane Madej, be serious? _Please_.” Ryan makes a psh sound and chuckles nervously. Maybe Shane’s just waiting for the right moment to laugh right back, but he doesn’t. He just stares. “Holy shit, you’re not really kidding, are you?”

“Yeah.”

Ryan returns his stare.

“ _Why_?”

Shane shrugs. “Because I like you, and really want to marry you.” He says, in the same way that he throws out facts to Ryan’s face on a regular day. On an average, ordinary, completely normal day. In Ryan’s mind, this is anything _but_ normal. But before he can point it out with already a finger raised, Shane adds, “So, can I?”

“Can you— _no_ , no you can’t Shane, because you don’t like me that way!” Shane looks a bit offended but Ryan doesn’t care. Shane doesn’t seem to be in his right mind and Ryan’s way too confused to _fucking care_. He feels like a parent talking to their child when he says “And again, we’re not even together! Like, in a relationship. You do realize that you’re skipping a shitload of stages here right?”

“So, it’s a no.”

“Oh my God _yes_ —I mean no. I meant yes that it is in fact a _no_ , because you’re crazy.”

Shane purses his lips, thinking, then he nods, as if to say ‘alright then’, or if Ryan had to compare it, exactly the way he says ‘just let it be a mystery’. “Okay. There’s always tomorrow.” He spares Ryan’s gaping face an exaggerated grin before making a move to leave.

Ryan snatches him by the wrist, almost desperately. “You’re not serious are you?”

“I just said I was.”

“Shane.”

“Ryan.”

“Please tell me you’re not serious.”

“You wound me deeply Ryan.” Shane clutches his chest in mock hurt and Ryan rolls his eyes at him, mostly out of habit. “Do you really hate me that much that you wouldn’t even consider me to be a good husband?”

“Wha—no!” Immediately after he says it, Ryan feels his face burn up. “I mean no, I don’t hate you, and I think you’d be a great husband. It’s just that you—you’re being—!“

“Great! Is that a yes?”

“No!”

As if on cue, three knocks erupt from the closet door making Ryan visibly jump a little. Shane snickers, and Ryan softly punches his side in retaliation. “Hey uh, if you guys are done arguing, we kinda need to get some things back there.” came Jen’s voice from the other side.

“We’ll be right out!” Shane calls back.

Ryan smacks him on the shoulder. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“About what Ryan? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ryan wants to smack him again, except this time straight across the face, where that stupid smirk is, but he refrains and pretends not to see it. Instead when Shane walks around him to get to the door, Ryan says what’s on his mind without thinking.

“You do know that I’m probably never gonna say yes right?”

Shane touches the doorknob before glancing at Ryan over his shoulder, then he fucking _winks_. “Probably. But I’m taking my chances.”

That statement leaves a confused Jen to find a flustered Ryan standing stiff in the middle of the closet just a few moments later. Whether he’s seething from anger, or something else entirely, he honestly doesn’t fucking know anymore.

* * *

 

_Day 10_

Shane kept it on the down low, but he was still pretty relentless.

Not that anything has dramatically changed in their everyday lives save for Ryan’s developing itch to give in to his temptations and shove an avocado down Shane’s throat, but Shane has taken asking Ryan ‘the question’ into being a part of his daily routine—whispering it out of nowhere in-between filming, casually throwing it into the conversation during lunch, he even asked when he and Ryan coincidentally happened to be alone in the bathroom. But that’s not what bothers Ryan, at least not really.

What irritates him is what happens (every. damn. time) after he says no.

Shane would nod in acknowledgement, go back to whatever he was doing then just…act as if nothing happened.

_Who the hell does that?!_

Ryan doesn’t just say no either—if Shane is (annoyingly) stubborn in asking him to marry him on the daily, then Ryan constantly rejects him just as ruthlessly. A stone cold “No, Shane.” accompanied with either an eye-roll, a scowl, or a straight up shove in the other direction.

One could say Ryan’s being a bit of an asshole, and he would concede to that. He’s not that heartless to not be aware of how mean he is in rejecting the guy, but as soon as Shane just shrugs off his response like getting a no to a will you marry me is not that important, he doesn’t feel half as bad. Especially not when the guy’s supposedly in love with him, yet he acts like Ryan’s response is not something to worry about? Bullshit.

And, oh yeah, there’s the fact that Shane is supposedly _in love with him_ , as you should be to people who you’d normally ask to marry you.

Again, not to be an asshole, but each time Shane doesn’t even seem to act the least bit interested in Ryan, that’s starting to be a lot less possible. Nearly suspicious.

Nope. Shane’s definitely being suspicious. Ryan nods to himself. Alright, time to stop thinking about this—

“So, that’s a yes then?”

Ryan feels his soul leap out of his skin, looking up at his best friend with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ dude!”

“Sorry,” Shane smiles innocently, not sorry at all. Jerk. “But stare any more at that laptop and your eyes are gonna melt off.”

“It’s literally my job to stare at a laptop all day.”

“Yeah, but you’re not really doing your job, are you? You’re wasting radiation.” Ryan grumbles a reply when Shane plops down into his seat, mostly because he’s right. He’s spent the better half of the week thinking about things completely not work-related. He’s got no one to blame but himself, and Shane’s probably noticed.

Not that him noticing his distress means anything. He’s his best friend, he should be doing something about it, yet he’s the reason for it in the first place and is making it worse the longer he plans to keep it up. Ryan spares him a bitter glance, and Shane catches it.

“What? It’s true. Can’t bear to lose those beady little eyes Bergara. Fans can’t tell you’re scared without them, you know?”

“Ha ha. Shut up long legs.”

“Oooh, feisty.” Ryan ignores him and actually gets back to work. Almost. Shane then taps him on the shoulder. “But hey, you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?” He raises an eyebrow. “ _That_ question, or a normal one?”

“To repeat the words of a wise man, Ha ha.” Ryan barely suppresses a grin. “But I’m not telling you to shut up ‘cause, you know, I kind of need that answer.”

This catches his attention, swinging his chair to face Shane fully. “Need? So there _is_ some sort of motive behind what you’ve been asking me this past week?”

_And not because you actually want to spend the rest of your life with me?_ Ryan inwardly finishes, ignoring how he doesn’t exactly know what to feel about that. Accomplished of his suspicions, maybe? Because if Ryan’s feeling anything out of this entire situation, it’s competitiveness, and definitely not…something else.

“Well, technically yes. I do have a motive.”

_I knew it!_ “And what would that be?”

Shane grins. “To get us hitched.”

Ryan physically feels his jaw drop just a tiny bit, static filling up his brain, blood spreading throughout his face, and by the look on Shane’s face he seems to notice. Taking delight in his embarrassment. Almost looking fond.

Yeah, right. _He’s up to something Ryan, don’t fall for it_. He buries what he could of his face in his sweater, facing back to his computer and forcing himself to get back to work, Shane still staring at him from the corner of his eye. God he’s insufferable.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Only for you baby.” He sees him do that damn wink again. Jerk. Up to something. Ryan struggles to remember how to think when, “So, will you marry me?”

“ _No_ , Shane.” Shane’s grin grows wider when Ryan forcibly closes his laptop, laying down and hiding in his arms. “Shut up.”

_He’ll get tired of it eventually_ , Ryan assures himself. _It’s clearly just some joke to him, so there’s no use thinking about it. Just don’t think about it._

* * *

 

_Day 42_

He ends up thinking about it. He has to.

A month has passed and Shane still hasn’t missed a single day without popping the question, and Ryan just can’t _not_ think about it. Who could, really?

So here he is, sitting on his couch with Netflix open in the background and two bowls of popcorn ready on the coffee table in front of him, deciding to use his time in thinking about Shane while waiting for the man himself to show up for movie night.

See, that’s the thing that irks Ryan. What they have hasn’t changed, even when a month has passed. They still hang out like usual, talk and bicker normally whether it be on or off camera, have their usual movie nights on the weekends like what they’re about to do now. The change in their dynamic seems so small, but Ryan knew better. Having your best friend ask you to marry them out of nowhere isn’t something that you can exactly ignore(not when they ask you every single day) but, especially with Shane, it’s most certainly starting to seem that way, making it something like a blink and you’ll miss it type of situation.

Blink and you’ll miss the way Ryan flinches ever so slightly when Shane leans over to tell him something, blink and you’ll miss the way Shane sticks close to him more frequently than before, blink and you’ll miss how Ryan visibly tenses up whenever Shane talks way too loud about something.

At some point in the day, Shane will ask the question, and Ryan hates how it constantly puts him on edge. The guy’s acting like a loose freaking cannon, and Ryan just happens to be (begrudgingly) the jumpiest guy he knows. It doesn’t make a good pair. And that’s not even the worst part.

No, the worst part of it all is that Ryan has no fucking idea where all this is coming from.

As stubborn as Shane’s being about this entire thing, Ryan still isn’t entirely (if at all) convinced that Shane even likes him, much less in love with him. _At least_ , not enough to warrant a marriage proposal. He couldn’t really blame himself for the sets of red flags flipping up in his head whenever the question comes up, not when Shane’s acting the way he is—and that, Ryan realizes, is what exactly sets them off in the first place. When could’ve Shane start liking him when he’s acting the way he’s always had? Was it Ryan? Did he somehow blink and miss the change in Shane’s behavior as well? The kind of behavior that a person’s supposed to have towards someone they like, much less love?

This whole thing is making Ryan run around in circles. It’s an unsolved mystery in and out of itself. He’s just the tiniest bit tempted to make an episode out of it.

And just like everything else that’s been happening recently, Ryan’s phone rings him out of his thoughts and sends his soul flying to the next county over.

“For the love of God Shane!” Ryan says the second he answers the call. “What’s with you and just popping up out of nowh…Shane?”

Ryan trails off, hearing what sounds like distant sniffling, then Shane’s voice booms through the receiver.

“ _Heyyyyy buddy…”_

Shane’s voice sounds hoarse, and it’s not a pleasant thing to hear. Ryan frowns as he turns off the TV and heads for the bedroom to get a better reception. “Hey, are you okay? We still on for movie night?”

_“Hell yeah ‘course we are m’just,”_ Shane cuts himself off with a loud, boisterous sneeze. _“…technical difficulties.”_

Ryan hears him shuffling around for a few more seconds before saying, “…you’re sick, aren’t you?”

_“Whut? No am not? Where’d you get that idea?”_ He’s definitely not drunk, that’s for sure. Ryan nearly mistook the way his voice sounds for slurs, which now he realizes is probably a clogged nose. As if to confirm this, Ryan’s ear is attacked by another sneeze. _“Am fine. Just, gimme a minute.”_

More shuffling. Ryan runs a hand through his hair, worry beginning to bubble up in his chest. “Dude, what the hell are you doing? Stop moving so much, you need rest—“

_“No no, I’ll be there. In a bit.”_

“ _Shane,_ let’s call it off. You really don’t have to—“

_“I’ll be there Ryan. Don’t worry about it.”_

Ryan’s about to protest more when Shane hangs up, making him fume silently to himself.

“That idiot.” Ryan tosses his phone into the bed and sits down, crossing his arms and thinking.

He stares at the bedroom door for a moment, a bit lost in his confused(and worried) thoughts before standing up to go to the kitchen.

He tries to busy himself by thinking of what to replace the pizza he already had in the oven(“what the hell am I supposed to feed a sick person?” says the unbeatable king of take out), but fails, mind racing back to his best friend, probably red-faced and speeding through L.A. traffic anyway, because he’s a fucking lunatic like that. Ryan pushes away the fondness he feels from the thought, sighing to himself.

Then again, he’s always been crazy anyway. Maybe crazier. Ryan just hopes he doesn’t die on the way here.

* * *

 

It’s been thirty minutes, and Ryan is pacing erratically.

Shane’s place is only supposed to be a ten minute drive, and that’s including L.A. fucking traffic. Not that it’s ever even stopped Shane before. He’s not supposed to take this long. Just—shit.

_Where the hell is he?_

As soon as the question passes by his head, a jolt of thunder booms through the building and straight to Ryan’s dropping stomach. A reminder of the rain that had emerged from literally fucking nowhere just five minutes ago, adding itself to the list of things slowly plucking Ryan’s sanity out of his brain.

The number one spot on that list however: Shane.

This is not good. This is _not good_.

Ryan does absolutely nothing for twenty more minutes until the doorbell finally rings and he feels his soul physically tear itself back into his body. He immediately bolts for the door from his spot on the breakfast bar and stubs his toe on the coffee table on the way to answer it.

The moment he opens the door, he screeches.

“What the _hell_ Shane?!”

Ryan already meant to say it before he saw him, but it’s for an entirely different reason this time.

Shane looks _awful_.

His normally fair complexion is flushed red, his nose especially the brightest. There are dark circles under his eyes and the shirt he’s wearing is not only on backwards, but soaked to the bone with the rest of rim. Needless to say, he looks a lot less okay than he sounds on the phone.

Ryan doesn’t force him in like he planned to though. Instead, he crosses his arms after giving him a once-over, glaring at him in silence. Shane sniffs, then has the nerve to look sheepish.

The silent stretches on for a moment as Ryan inwardly struggles to keep his emotions at bay.

“You look like Rudolph the red-nosed fucking reindeer if he had cancer.” He decides to say, barely keeping his tone from sounding condescending.

Shane, despite how clearly tired he looks, pulls a weary smile. “Geez. Flattering.”

Alright, he can’t take it anymore. “Get in here you dumbass.” Ryan grabs his wrist, then winces at the touch.  “Shane, you’re burning up like crazy!”

Shane rolls his eyes, though it ends up looking like a grimace. “I’m fine Mom.”

Ryan’s glare sharpens, making Shane weakly put his hands in the air.

Huffing, Ryan grabs one them again and pulls him into the apartment like he was a child that refused to go to bed, dragging him and settling him down on the couch. It occurs to him just then that Shane’s getting the couch wet, but he’s feeling way too many mixed emotions at once that a wet fucking couch wouldn’t settle as the least of his worries.

“Did you drive all the way here? What the fuck took you so long?” Ryan finally asks as he makes his way to kitchen. He feels Shane’s eyes on him as he does so, and in turn faces him after taking a water pitcher from the fridge and forcefully slamming it shut. The small flinch he receives satisfies him a little.

“Mm.” is what Shane replies anyway.

“You—“

Ryan holds himself back from lashing out.

Because…Shane’s here now. There’s no reason to be mad anymore. He’s safe.

He’s also staring at Ryan’s ceiling like it has all of life’s answers, and although worrying it helps Ryan calm down a bit. He exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“…you’re seriously out of it.” Ryan points out instead, preparing a glass of water on the breakfast bar separating the living room and the kitchen. Shane rolls his eyes again and leans against the couch, making himself comfortable. Ryan goes to sit next to him, suppressing his inner turmoil, and hands him the water. “You shouldn’t have come here.” He whispers.

“I’m fiiine.” Shane whines, yet chugs the water down as soon as it’s in his grasp. When he throws his head back, Ryan instantly remembers that the man is still dripping with rainwater and is in the middle of his air-conditioned apartment. Cursing, Ryan grabs for Shane’s shirt without thinking.

He’s already brought the cloth halfway up Shane’s torso when he notices the smug look on Shane’s face.

“What?”

“Gosh Ryan, ready for the honeymoon already? You haven’t even said yes.”

The words immediately throw Ryan off guard, mouth stuttering in embarrassment. It’s too late to retract his hands now, so he groans and resumes anyway. “S-Shut up and take your goddamn shirt off Shane.” Ryan says, blushing despite himself. Shane nudges his hands off, making a gesture that says ‘I’ll do it myself’, then fails miserably when he starts treating it like a straightjacket. Ryan sighs, helping him out of it before ushering him up.

“Where we goin’?”

“To the bed.”

Shane smirks again.

“And no, only you’re sleeping on it since you’re already here and it’s late and I can’t just send your sick ass back home on your own. Shut up.”

Shane wiggles his eyebrows anyway, and Ryan figures there’s no point in questioning where Shane gets the infinite amount of energy to piss him off. “Take your pants off too, then go to the bed.” He orders under his breath before going(escaping) momentarily to the bathroom to get a towel.

* * *

 

“What ‘bout movie night?” Shane asks after Ryan returns, helping him dry his hair after making the guy dry the more secluded parts of himself. (“Seriously Ryan, I don’t mind.” “Dry yourself before I kick your wet ass outside.”)

“Not tonight big guy.”

Shane almost looks disappointed when Ryan settles him into his bed, something weird stirring in his chest. _No, still mad at you._ “Aw, I fucked up didn’t I?”

“No, it’s alright,” Ryan tries to hide his surprise at how gentle his voice is as he drapes the covers over Shane. “You’re stupid for coming here, that’s for sure, but we can put movie night on hold for now. You gotta rest.”

“But what about Rose and Jack?”

Ryan blinks. “What?”

“Y’know,” Shane mimics a horn as he moves his hand across the air, his other hand in a tight fist. The first hand crashes into it, what’s supposed to sound like explosions coming out of Shane’s mouth. Then he looks at Ryan expectantly, like a child in bed that just simplified a very elaborate dream.

(Honestly, Ryan has been feeling like a mother all evening.)

“I have no idea what that just was.”

“Ugh.” Shane mulls over it for a second before an idea pops into his head. He rearranges the covers to cover only his ‘area’ (Ryan nearly panics) then hoists his head on one arm. He clears his throat, speaking in a sultry high-pitched voice. “Draw me like—what was the line…oh right—like one of your French gi—“

“Nope. No. I get it. Titanic. Yeah sure next time we’re done now,” Ryan hurriedly says with a red face as he quickly bends down to spread the covers back, covering a whole lot of Shane as possible. “Are you actually drunk too?”

“I’m sick Ryan. I wouldn’t kill myself.”

“You literally just came here with a goddamn fever when it’s fucking raining out.”

“It wasn’t raining when I left.”

“Then why’d it take you an hour?!”

Shane shrugs, yawning. Ryan rolls his eyes.

The conversation makes Ryan remember that Shane is still burning up like crazy. “Get some sleep.” He whispers before turning around to go wet a new towel when the man in question suddenly holds on to his wrist.

“Wait.”

“Hm?”

“W…Will you marry me?”

Ryan stares at him, and Shane stares back.

It takes Ryan a moment for it to click.

“Did you…seriously come all the way over here just to ask me that?”

Shane sleepily grins at him, and Ryan blames the heat spreading through his face on from the fact that a) Shane’s mostly naked, b)He’s also possibly infected Ryan with whatever he has and c) definitely not because that grin is working wonders with Ryan’s heartstrings. That would be weird.

“Yep.” Shane whispers, then his eyes widen slightly in horror, eyes blinking rapidly. “B-But I’m not guilt-tripping you into it or anything...”

“Y-Yeah, alright. Just…”

_I was worried about you, you fucking idiot_.

Ryan groans into his free palm, calming himself down again for a few seconds before he’s about to get Shane’s hand off his wrist when he notices that the man has already passed out, snoring silently on Ryan’s pillow, his messy brown hair splayed across it.

Silently Ryan sighs, afraid to wake him. He sits down on the bed gently next to his long-limbed friend, using his free hand to push the hair out of Shane’s eyes, staring at him. Trying to figure him out.

_He came here just to ask_ , Ryan repeats. _He came and drove all the way here, sick, just to ask that stupid question._

Ryan shakes his head. What’s stupid is to call it stupid now, considering what it took Shane just come here. It’s insane. His eyes soften as his stare lingers at the sleeping man. _You’re insane_.

“…you’re really never gonna give this up are you?”

He lets the question dissolve into thin air before standing up to get that wet towel, and if he imagines the small _“yes”_ he hears before exiting the room and the smile on his face because of it, well, he refuses to think about it.

* * *

 

_Day 44_

Shane walks into work that morning looking slightly less for wear, but he looks better than he had two days ago. Ryan’s already made coffee for him(how he likes it) and set it on Shane’s side of the desk. When the zombie finally arrives on said desk and sees the mug on the table, he sends a grateful smile Ryan’s way before sitting down.

“You feeling better?”

“Nah. Still shit. But not half as bad as when I went to your place,” Shane takes a large gulp out of his steaming mug like it’s nothing. The monster. Wiping his mouth off with his sleeve he spares Ryan another stupid wink. “It’s all because you took care of me. Awww, thanks a lot hubby.”

“Shut up. You were a burden on my weekend,” Although Ryan smirks when Shane feigns an arrow being shot through his chest, it’s not entirely true. It was really him who insisted that Shane stay at his place before finally driving him home the night before. Shane passed out before they could make it to his bed and nearly pulled Ryan down with him, but that was a memory he’d like to shove into the back of his head. Y’know, for safekeeping.

“Ouch. By the way, will you marry me?”

“No, Shane.”

Shane shrugs, an immediate reaction, and Ryan blinks when he realizes he doesn’t mind it so much anymore. He watches the tall man stretch and turn on his computer, about to start work and put his headphones in when Ryan timidly taps him on the shoulder.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

Ryan doesn’t acknowledge the greeting, instead staring intently down at the floor. Shane cocks his head, “Hey, you alright?”

“Uh, you know,” Ryan suddenly starts, growing a little red with each word, “i-if you’re gonna keep that up, you know t-the um,” he waves his hand as if to refer to ‘that question’, and Shane laughs before mimicking him, addressing him to go on, “well, I guess I’d mind it l-less if you…tookmeouttodinnerorsomething.”

Shane rose an eyebrow, “What?”

“I don’t like you if that’s what you’re thinking!” Ryan quickly clarifies, Shane looking unfazed and instead beckoning him to continue. “I said,” he swallows, “at least…t-take me out. Buy me dinner. Just…go slow. Is that alright?”

Ryan doesn’t stop looking at the floor, eyebrows knitted and knees sticking to the other like glue. After a few more seconds of no response from the other man, he slowly looks up to see Shane…smiling at him.

Not the bordering-on-smirk kind of smile that he always wears. It’s…it’s something else. Something softer. Ryan gulps.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Hey, have I told you that—“

“Nope. No. You already asked me that question today, now you have to answer mine.”

Shane shakes his head.

“No no, it’s not that.” Shane chuckles a little, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so. “I just realized that I haven’t told you yet.”

“Told me what?”

“That I love you.”

Ryan’s jaw drops.

“And yes, I’d like to go on a date with you.” Shane adds, the small smirk making it’s grand return to his stupid sloth face as he turns back to his computer, eyes not yet leaving his.

“H-Huh. Yeah.” Ryan turns in his own chair releasing small laughs of disbelief, despite the beet-red look on his face. “Yeah, okay.”

He’s found it. The true source of the problem. It’s not ‘the question’ he should be worrying about.

It’s Shane freaking Madej, and a whole of him to get used to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan has feelings.  
> (Except he's probably had them to begin with.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I said 3 days, but Im facilitating camp tomorrow so here's an early update. On a sad note: next chapter probably wont be up in a week, this was pretty last minute :(((( But DONT FRET, here's a horrendously long chapter of the most fluff I've ever written in literally years. Hope I dont disappoint, because this story received much love and I COULDNT THANK YOU GUYS ENOUGH :D
> 
> Enjoy!

_Day 101_

_“…—help—s…-ease…”_

“Holy shit.” Ryan says over the loud scratches of static. “Did you hear that?!”

“I probably didn’t,” Shane deadpans, glaring at the spirit box with a fiery passion. He’s already been pretty pissy since they’ve got here, because not only was the house owned by one of the most horrible human beings to walk this earth, the place itself reflects its past owner in every aspect—paintings of naked women lined every hallway,  yet altars and religious imagery were scattered just as much. Even Ryan feels pretty miffed(just really, really disgusted) just imagining what it must’ve felt like for the poor prisoners, so he can see where’s Shane coming from.

Still, nothing beats his undying hate for Ryan’s favorite gadget.

 “That thing’s so loud my Mom could hear it all the way from Illinois. And guess what, Ryan? She uses a hearing aid now.”

“I’m serious Shane.” Huffing, Ryan turns off the gadget and Shane raises his hands to the heavens. “That seriously sounded a lot like ‘help us please’ didn’t it? I know it did, loud and clear!”

“I doubt it said anything close to that. You do realize that we’re supposed to be talking to Anna and Joline’s ghosts, and they’re the _murderers_.” TJ snickers from behind the camera when Shane blinds Ryan with his flashlight, illuminating his big, frowning brown eyes.

“Yeah, the murderers who were documented to have been imprisoned here to starve to death.” Ryan rolls his eyes, which are starting to feel a little watery from the flashlight Shane’s shamelessly shining on them. “Murderers can ask for help too, you know.”

“Oh right, it’s totally normal for a murderer to ask for help. Like ‘Hey there! My tire’s flat, might need a little help here, oh thank you thank you, here’s the ranch—oh shit, that was your head?! My bad man! Are you dead? Hello?’” Shane uses his free hand to imitate someone poking something with a stick, then accelerating it to look like he’s stabbing someone. Ryan’s mad at him, but is smiling despite himself, a chuckle finally slipping out of his mouth.

“That’s fucking morbid dude.”

“Well, I rest my case—those stupid voices definitely weren’t Anna or Joline. I mean—the murderer still doesn’t get their tire fixed, so they’d just end up asking for help until the trunk couldn’t hold any more dead bodies right? Yikes.”

Ryan couldn’t take it anymore, he starts laughing so hard he’s clutching his sides. Shane leans forward as well, laughing just as hard. The two go on for a few more seconds before Ryan’s panting through his words, looking at the camera and saying “We’re so fucking sorry Anna and Joline.”

“Yeah, and to all the murderers with flat tires.”

“Shut up Shane.”

That’s when Ryan makes the mistake of laughing a little harder, his hand already searching for the nearest flat surface to smack.

Instead, his hand knocks over the flashlight on Shane’s hand, and it falls to the floor with a sickening crack.

The room is plunged into darkness, nothing but the red light blinking on TJ’s camera the only source of light in the room and the laughter quickly dies down. The room temperature suddenly drops down by a ton, and Ryan can feel the color draining from his face.

“Uh, shit.”

“Ryan, I didn’t know I was _that_ funny.”

Ryan swats at where he knows Shane is sitting next to him, hitting what feels to be Shane’s shoulder. “Ow!”

“Sorry.” Ryan says, feeling himself relax a little more knowing Shane’s still next to him. “It’s dark as fuck in here.”

“Yeah, well, your flashlight ran out of battery earlier right?”

“Right.” He doesn’t know if he should stand up or not, but since he doesn’t want to move away from where he knows Shane’s presence is, he stays still from his spot on the floor. “Teej?”

“Over here.” TJ’s face is suddenly illuminated from where the blinking red light is from, features focused as he reviews the footage. “The camera’s dying, by the way. You guys bring batteries?”

“I have some in the car. It’s in the bag with the GoPro I think.”

Ryan shakes his head, though Shane couldn’t see it. “Still can’t believe you didn’t bring your GoPro.”

“Still can’t believe your flashlight ran out of battery.” Shane counters, the smirk in his voice pretty evident. “On top of that, you got jealous and broke mine? Tch tch, hypocrisy Ryan.”

“My flashlight running out of battery isn’t something I could help!” Ryan defends. “And you could’ve just gone back to the car and get it!”

“And did you bring extra flashlight batteries but _also_ didn’t go back to get it?”

“…touché.”

“If you idiots are done arguing about your lazy asses,” TJ interrupts, face still highlighted by the light from the camera. Ryan winces at how slightly creepy he looks. “I’m actually gonna go back to the car and get those spare batteries. You two coming with?”

“Nope.” Shane says, popping the p. “I’m staying. Spend some quality time with here ol’ Anna and Joline.”

At the mention of the two deceased women, the chills Ryan felt earlier slowly crept back up his spine. Still, he didn’t want to leave his spot on the floor, so he says, “I’m staying too. My legs are numb.”

“ _Wow_.” With the help of the dim light from the camera, Ryan at least sees an outline of Shane’s head looking down at his own long, uncomfortably seated legs.

“Shut up.” Ryan mumbles, not that his lie is that unreasonable anyway. They’ve been sitting on the floor for the past fifteen minutes, and it’s a very hard, stone cold floor.

“I’m blushing, Ryan. Really.”

“Whatever.”

“Alright.” TJ interrupts, a finality to his tone. “Be right back.”

TJ’s face disappears, and as creepy as it was Ryan realizes he’d prefer it there than what it’s left in it’s wake—total darkness. A few footsteps later, Ryan hears the door close on the other side of the room.

The room is, once again, enveloped by a complete black and the occasional sound of cars passing by outside. Other than those two facts, Ryan’s head is swimming with the most important one.

_Total darkness, in the room where the two serial killers met their ill fates at the hand of a merciless priest that sought to punish them for their wrongdoings._

Ryan encloses his arms around himself, willing himself not to shake. He’s a grown ass man.

“Dude, I can hear your breath factory steaming really hard from here.”

Ryan’s breath hitches, then he lets out a breathless laugh. “Goddamn it Shane.” _Shane’s here. It’s okay._

“If you’re not comfortable you can always catch up to Teej you know?”

Ryan opens his mouth to retort, then slowly closes it. There’s really no use in denying it is there? “Y-Yeah…” Now that he thinks about it, he does have spare holy water at the trunk of his car. They’re not in a demon house for this episode, sure, but Ryan always feels safer with it anyway. He gets up, then awkwardly waddles his way through the darkness in the direction where he’s sure the door should be, silently hoping he doesn’t run into anything. “I’m gonna do that.”

“Great.” Ryan hears Shane fumbling to stand up as well(at least dear God he hopes it’s Shane), and footsteps following him.

“Please tell me that’s you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m still sitting here.”

Ryan whips around faster than he could blink. “Christ, Shane!”

Shane’s voice shamelessly laughs from behind him, but he doesn’t stop the relief that seeps out of his being when the feeling of Shane’s familiar hand lands on his shoulder. “Calm down, dude.”

“It’s not funny.” Ryan mutters, thankful for the darkness for at least hiding the flush that’s begun to climb his neck at the touch.

“Sorry.” Shane whispers, hand leaving his shoulder.

Alright, Ryan’s definitely the one blushing now.

Ever since they’ve started having date nights on Fridays(yet again a new Shane-related tradition that Ryan isn’t really sure he’s okay with but won’t admit that he thoroughly enjoys very much) and after Shane’s small declaration of…”love”, Ryan finds that he still can’t get used to the now very evident change in their dynamic. Shane has always been touchy, but Ryan can now feel the double-meaning when the tall man does something as simple as brush hands with him when getting coffee, or bumps their shoulders while recording in the sound booth, or ruffles his hair whenever he ‘feels like it’.

Now that Shane’s clearly putting his affection out in the open(what with him still popping the question every single day), the ball’s now stuck rooted into Ryan’s court. He doesn’t want to pick it up. And for the past month, he almost always wishes that he never does end up picking it up.

But, of course, Shane’s not giving up till he does. It equally scares and endears him just how determined(?) the guy is being—endeared because, well, it’s Shane, and scared because…Ryan’s not even the least bit sure of what he actually feels for him, and _exactly because it’s Shane._

The troubling thought makes Ryan frown as his outstretched hands finally find the opposite wall, feeling along the rugged concrete until he finally finds the rusty texture that is the doorknob, then twisting it.

…and twisting it.

…and twisting it again.

No, scratch that. _Trying_ to twist it, because he can’t. It won’t fucking turn.

“Shane.” Ryan starts, already feeling the panic build up in his chest as his free hand searches for Shane behind him, the other starting to shake the doorknob that just _won’t budge_. “Shane, it’s locked. We’re locked in. _Shane_.”

“Ryan, I’m right here. Get it together.” The return of Shane’s hand on his shoulder doesn’t comfort him this time. Ryan’s too busy trying to rip the doorknob off of it’s hinges, to get it to make any sort of movement because _oh God they are stuck in here they are locked oh my God_. He cusses and bangs the door to no avail.

Shane’s grip tightens on his shoulder. He hears the doorknob being rattled, and Shane cursing under his breath. “Goddamn it TJ.”

Ryan doesn’t hear him after that. He can’t. He sinks down to the floor, clutching his head and forcing the air to just enter his fucking lungs.

_This is where they got locked in. This is where they starved. This where they died. And now the exact same thing is happening to them and is going to happen to them and oh shit oh God—_

“Ryan. Ryan, listen to me. Calm down. I need to tell you something.” Shane’s voice firmly says as it settles beside him on the floor, but Ryan can’t focus on it. He can’t focus on anything. “Ryan. Buddy. Ryan. Hey. I need to ask you really important gotta listen—“

“ _What_ Shane?! What?!” Ryan bursts out. They’re on the third floor of the priest’s mansion, and on top of that the room is soundproof from the inside. “In case you haven’t noticed I’m not exactly—“ He swallows a huge amount of air. It’s not enough. “—not exactly—in the right position to fucking _talk_ right now—“

“Yeah but I gotta ask you something—“

“Shane—“

“Ryan, dude, come on it’s important calm down for a sec—“

_“What?!”_

Ryan can only hear his own strained breathing for a few seconds, coupled with Shane’s own relaxed one. It’s exactly at times like these when he equally admires him for being just so rational and—just unafraid, but also resent him deeply for the exact same reason.

Still, he focuses on Shane’s rhythm with a struggle and _shit shit shit shit_ —

 “…what do you think of blue?”

Ryan’s mind mentally blanks out.

“…what?”

“Blue. As a theme.” Shane repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Ryan chokes on his own breaths. “For what?”

“For the wedding.”

_…what._

Ryan wheezes out a dry laugh of disbelief. “Are you fucking serious right now Shane?”

“Dead serious. So what’s your take?” Shane asks, not a hint of worry or concern in his voice other than genuine curiosity. “I think blue would look good on the carpet—red’s way too old-fashioned.” He sighs dreamily, as if he’s seeing it in his mind. “It’d be cool right?”

Ryan wills himself not to swat at Shane again, forcing his breath to slow down so he can speak.

“Dude, I’m literally having a panic attack right now, and you’re talking about wedding arrangements?”

“Um. Yeah.” Again, with the nonchalant behavior. “So is blue a no?”

Ryan just about loses it, ready to scold Shane for being an inconsiderate buffoon.

That’s when he feels a small squeeze coming from his right hand.

He looks down at where it must be, and his chest tightens.

He can’t see it, but for some reason he can imagine Shane’s large fingers interlaced with his in between them, even though they’ve never held hands before. Not like this. It surprises him that he didn’t seem to realize that Shane even grasped his hand in the first place.

…but it’s warm.

Ryan suddenly realizes that he’s not breathing so heavily anymore.

Still, he tries following Shane’s rhythm again and finds it much easier to do so.

“Ryan?”

“…yes, it’s a no.”

“What? Why?!” Shane’s hand moves with his, and he can practically see the guy mocking astonishment.

Ryan snorts quietly. “There’s no way I’m walking down a blue carpet. I’d look like Jesus walking on water.”

“That’s cool though? You can be like Jack from the Incredibles!” Shane makes a whooshing sound. “Just sprint your way towards the altar.”

“I wouldn’t…want one of the possibly best moments of my life to be over in literally a flash, thank you very much.” Ryan breaths through a chuckle. “But what’s wrong with red? I could be running on blood—now _that_ would be cool.”

“I see what you’re getting at…but no. We’re morbid enough as it is.”  

Something makes a sound somewhere in room making Ryan flinch.

_In._

_Out._

Shane squeezes his hand again.

“So, moving on. What about flowers?”

“Shane.”

“Since we couldn’t decide on a color yet, let’s be, uh, color-neutral. Something white, but not in the racist way. Any suggestions?”

Ryan breathes in again, then sighs, the small smile coming back to his face. He hums, then quietly blows him a raspberry. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard that one before, but sure.”

_In._

_Out._

He’s okay.

Shane’s here.

_In…_

Ryan snorts, and is quiet for a while. He lets his head fall back against the door and watches the swirling images his head is making up in the darkness.

He feels Shane tense up from the way his grip grew a little tighter as the silent stretches on, so he closes his eyes and thinks, resuming to breath evenly.

Then the perfect thought just comes to him.

 “…lilies.”

“Hm?”

“White lilies.” He says a little louder. When his voice doesn’t shake, Shane relaxes his grip on him. To his own surprise, Ryan does too, not realizing it. “My mom had white lilies as the wedding flowers for her and Dad’s wedding. She always insisted that they represent…forever. And that she was sure she and Dad would be a very good example of that.” Ryan chuckles. “And, well, she’s right. Still going strong those two.”

“Wow, your mom’s quite the believer.”

Ryan nearly nods when his brain clicks. “Wait, no Shane don’t say it—“

“Does she believe in ghosts too?”

“Oh my God.” Ryan groans and opening his eyes, wishing he could see the smug look on Shane’s face so he could chuck it off, “Please don’t bring my mother into this.”

“Why, of course not. She sounds like a wonderful woman Ryan. Compassionate.” The smile is clear in Shane’s voice when he says “Like her son.”

If Ryan thinks hard enough, he can pretend the blush on his face isn’t really there. Not that there’s anyone to witness it, and if Shane feels Ryan’s hand warm up then, that’s on him. “She has two sons.”

“Right. Don’t worry buddy, bet your Dad has spare traits back in his jumper somewhere.”

“Fuck you.”

The conversation dies down amicably. They both sit in a comfortable silence, Ryan now seemingly at peace with his surroundings, and Shane being at peace with Ryan. He squeezes Shane’s hand every few seconds to keep his sanity intact, and the other man doesn’t fail to squeeze back. It’s nice, and Ryan almost doesn’t mind if the moment lasts a little longer.

Almost.

He starts wondering what’s taking TJ so damn long when Shane suddenly says, “So…forever, huh?”

“…yeah.”

Another soft squeeze, and seconds later, something softer leaning against the top of his head. Shane’s voice is closer when he whispers, “White lilies it is then...”

Ryan swallows.

_Bad. This is Bad. Really really Bad with a capital B._

“…don’t get any weird ideas.”

“You’re the one who wants to be Jesus sprinting on blood. Don’t go pointing fingers.”

Ryan laughs again, and before he could feel himself leaning back into Shane’s warmth and the dangerous emotions that could come with it, TJ finally returns and opens the door from the other side.

Shane lets go of his hand first so they could resume filming the episode, and Ryan almost misses it, but not for long.

When they finally settle in their respective sleeping bags for the night and Ryan starts panicking to himself again, Shane’s hand finds his in the darkness. He asks him to marry him, then openly chatters something about some kind of beach wedding until they both fall asleep.

* * *

 

_Day 102_

“Ryan, marry me?”

“No, Shane.” Ryan says, stepping out of the car. The action delays a little with how Ryan’s muscles feel sore all over, but he manages. Once shut, Ryan turns around and offers a tired smile through the window. “Oh yeah, thanks for the ride.”

Shane grins at him from the driver’s seat. “No prob. See you at work?”

“Yep.” With that Ryan shuts Shane’s car door and waves him off, the tall man waving back as he backs out of the parking lot before finally speeding off to the streets. Ryan watches him till he disappears at the next turn, then starts making his way towards his apartment building.

Sluggishly walking up to the elevators and to his door, Ryan’s surprised that he hasn’t passed out yet. All he can think about at the moment is the smooth, warm expanse that is the surface of his bed and the bone-dropping exhaustion he feels. As soon as he’s closed the door behind him he tries kicking the shoes off his feet but fails miserably.

Ryan sighs, drops his backpack and sits down by his doorway, ready to reach out and shove his stupid shoes into the next dimension when he stops and stares at his hands when they come into view.

Slowly, he blinks the sleep out of his eyes as he squeezes both his fists shut at the same time, then open them to reveal his palms.

Shoes forgotten, he repeats the action, using the haze in his mind as an excuse to just…stare at them. Think about them. For a little while longer.

Without thinking, however, Ryan cuts the cycle and suddenly…clamps his hands together, then laces the fingers together.

He blinks once more. Twice.

Then as if thrown by a bucket of ice cold water straight to his face, his eyes widen and his heart starts racing as he realizes something.

Something to do with a certain co-host, a tall sloth-eyed idiot who just so happens to be his best friend, and the very image of him on Ryan’s couch, next to Ryan’s desk, in the chair next to him when they’re at Chipotle, in the sound booth, at the back of a car after filming, in the sleeping bag next to his— _just right beside Ryan_ , wearing the smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, laughing that wheezy laugh that they share way too often, and boldly asking in that soft, genuine voice…if he’ll marry him.

Ryan realizes it.

And he realizes it way too late.

That he’s _scared_ , and that he is incredibly, and utterly, fucked.

* * *

 

_Day 110_

The small bicycles leaning against one another next to the porch steps were a welcoming sight to Ryan, finally relaxing under the merciless rays of the California sun. He breathed the incoming sense of nostalgia as he climbed the steps, taking in the peach-white walls and rose bushes stuffed into pots all over the patio. His parents’ house was never far, really, just a thirty minute drive from his own place, but the homey atmosphere it had to it never really gets old. Ryan can visit this place every day, and he’ll still feel like he’s back in high school all over again.

He didn’t come back to reminisce though.

Ryan pulls out his phone before entering the door when he gets a text from Jake, telling him he won’t be coming over until about an hour. Perfect. Just enough time alone to—

“Oh thank heavens, I thought you’d never visit!”

Speak(think?) of the devil, and she appears. Ryan smiles brightly at his mother as she opens the door completely, pulling him in for a tight hug. Linda returns the smile on his face with her own toothy grin (“I swear Ryan, you’re like a straight-up carbon copy” Shane said at the family photo on his bedside table).

“My baby boy,” She steps back to take in the sight of her son before pulling a face. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I came by last month, you drama queen.”

“That’s a long time!” She defends with a hearty laugh, the two of them simultaneously coming inside in an unspoken agreement, like they just came back from the supermarket together. Ryan breathes in again.

“Not really, but…it kinda does feel like it.”

“It _does_ feel like it.” She clicks her tongue. “Come on honey, I’m always right.”

Ryan shakes his head affectionately, dropping his car keys by their small coffee table in the living room before following her into the kitchen. His nose perks up at the scent of something cooking even when they’re still in the hallway.

“Pot roast?”

“Well, God knows what you’ve been feeding that big ol’ stomach of yours. I can’t even imagine you doing something as simple as frying eggs.”

Ryan doesn’t look her in the eye. “I can fry eggs.”

“And that’s it.”

Damn, she’s good. “Whatever. I’m still alive aren’t I?” Ryan pauses, “Also, not true. I can make popcorn too,”

“Oh shush. Just figured you could eat an _actual meal_ every once in a while.” Linda chirps as she hovers by the oven, leaving Ryan to grumble to himself as he settles down by the counter. He watches his mother work her magic, dancing around the kitchen as she prepares the plates and utensils. It reminds him of Shane, because the hotdog-obsessed hooligan can actually cook. Ryan chuckles to himself at the thought.

Then he freezes.

_Oh. Right._ Ryan remembers. _Shane._

“Hey, uh…Mom?”

“What’s his name sweetie?”

Ryan opens his mouth to speak, ready to break out this elaborate speech he’d prepared the night before, then slowly closes it.

“…what?”

Linda pauses and puts the plates she’s carrying down on the table, sending him a pointed look. “Please, as if you can hide anything from me.”  She giggles, shaking her head as she makes her way to counter, sitting across from him. “Knew you were having love troubles the moment I caught you dazed up at the porch.”

“Y-Yeah but,” Ryan stutters, his mother quirking a brow at him, “how did you know?”

“It’s that Shane boy, isn’t it?”

“Mom!”

“What?” She snickers when he groans and buries his face into his hands, rubbing a hand on his shoulder. This is a familiar exchange between the two of them, because Linda is like a love psychic. She always finds out about Ryan’s(and Jake’s) crushes, flings, heck she knew about his girlfriends before he even confesses to them. The thought makes Ryan blush, because whatever kind of effect Shane has had on him must’ve been strong enough for his own mother to notice it and—God this never fails to be so fucking embarrassing.

“What’s wrong?” The woman teases, and Ryan already expects it when she says, “Geez, you’re so cute when you’re in love.”

“I’m not—“ Ryan cuts himself off, wide-eyed. He didn’t expect to respond like _that_. Linda mirrors his expression.

“You’re not what, sweetie?”

Ryan’s mouth opens and closes at random intervals, growing red at the fact that he’s actually speechless. “I-I’m not in—I don’t—I _might_ be—“

His mother looks at him knowingly. Yes, they had these talks before, but it never went like this. Ryan always, always had something to say—but all he can manage at the moment is a choked up “I-I’m—I’m just…”

He dumps his face into the counter.

Seconds later, he feels his mother’s familiar hand brushing through his hair. “…I don’t know…I just…really don’t know.” He mumbles.

“Shush, it’s alright…” She smiles at him warmly, “You can tell me anything.”

So, he shifts his head in his arms so he can look up at her, and sighs.

He stares at her for a moment, and she back. They don’t say anything, his mother waiting, but he knows she won’t push him into anything he doesn’t want to. She never does.

He smiles back at her.

That’s why…he _can_ tell her anything. They’ve always been open with one another, and Ryan is forever grateful to be able to have that kind of relationship with her. The nostalgic feeling comes back, a small memory of the both of them in the same position on the kitchen counter every Sunday evening.

Another memory follows, but one with a tall funny idiot poking his nose with a spatula.

He breathes in and tells her everything.

From the very first day down to what he realizes has been a hundred and ten days now—(“Woah, honey, that’s a lot of No’s,”)—of Shane asking him to marry him, how he (so far) hasn’t missed a single day, how they’re sort of dating-ish now because of it. He tells her about how he had been suspicious at the beginning, and about how he still feels a little bit suspicious now.

“He’s never even told me what he actually _likes_ about me…” Ryan trails off, “I mean, he tells me that he likes me, but doesn’t really act like he does.”

“You sure?” Linda hums, “I don’t know honey, that time you told me he had, what, a fever? And took an entire hour just to drive to your house?” He doesn’t look her in the eye when she clicks her tongue. “Think that says a lot, really.”

“Yeah but—“

“Oh, and don’t forget what you said he’s been calling you on dates? ‘Baby, darling, hubby—“

“Mom.” She’s having way too much fun with this.

“And don’t forget about the hand holding! The white lilies!” Linda slams her hand on the counter. Obviously, that was her favorite part of the story, and was more than happy that she’s been brought up into her son’s love life. “That was the sweetest thing a man could do. Damn baby, I wish your father comforted me the way he did to you.”

Ryan looks down at his own hands thoughtfully, remembering exactly what’s brought him to come home in the first place.

“Just because he comforted me doesn’t really mean he loves me right?”

“Oh, love comes in various ways. The fact that he comforted you means that he cares about you, and I’m pretty sure that’s one way of loving, whatever kind of it it might be.” Linda doesn’t hide the amusement in her tone at Ryan’s mention of the L word, instead taking his hand in hers to show her approval, “And besides, the way that boy looks at you…I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the only one worrying if he really loves you or not, because believe me honey, everyone else can see it.”

Ryan flushes. “I-I’m not—what? What do you mean? How does he look at me?” He pauses for a moment, pointing a finger at her. “How would _you_ know?”

“I know everything baby, and I’m always right.” She reminds, “And I watch your little show too you know? Your Father and I love to kick up a beer on Fridays, watch you prancing around to the sound of your own breathing. Sometimes Jake joins us.”

“Mom, not right now.” She smiles at him slyly. This is exactly why he didn’t want Shane to bring her up. _My own mother’s a Shaniac._

“No, I believe in ghosts.” Linda corrects when Ryan says it out loud, “But not as much as you do. Your father however,” She whistles, “Should’ve seen him back in the day, you two have the exact same eyes that grow twice as large when you scream bloody murder—“

“I’m going home. I’m going home right now.”

She smiles, “Sorry.”

“Can you just—make your point now? Please?”

“There’s no point honey, I’m just stating the obvious,” Ryan, cracks an eye open, peering at her curiously from where he’s laid back down on the counter, “You just can’t see it, but when you really pay attention, he’s always, always looking after you.”

“I edit those videos Mom. It’s…he’s doing his job.”

“If there’s actually a point, then, well, _that’s_ the point.” She emphasizes, this time being the one pointing at him. “He’s not just doing his job. He’s _making_ it his job. From what you’ve told me about the show, he’s kinda just there isn’t he? Isn’t that because he chooses not to, well…” She brushes the strands of hair off of Ryan’s eyes, “…walk away?”

Ryan holds her gaze before burying himself on the counter again. Embarassed. Because he _knows_.

He knows and agrees to everything she’s said because everything she has said came from him in the first place. She’s just mirroring his words, throwing them back at him, making him see, because that’s what she’s good at—making him see through his own bullshit, using his denial against him with subtle words and careful repetition.

Sometimes he hates how he needs her to just…just see.

And she’s about to do it again, but this time, Ryan can no longer play blind.

“Honey, don’t you think that you’re just using Shane’s actions as an excuse to…deny your own feelings?”

Ryan freezes.

He doesn’t say anything, not for a long time. He doesn’t need to. He already knows the answer.

“…what do you mean?” He asks anyway, because he needed to hear it. To see it.

Her voice is quiet. Careful. But he knows that she knows that she’s right when she finally asks him what he’s been avoiding to acknowledge for months.

“You did tell him no each time…but you never did say that you didn’t like him back, did you?”

“...yes.” He whispers just as quietly, but it’s loud, in the same way that his heart is beating against his ribcage. Slowly, he looks up at her again, and she’s already smiling down at him. He mirrors it. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.” Her smile grows a little wider. “And I’m sure he does too.”

He laughs, because for the first time in months, he admits to himself that he actually hopes she’s right.

“ _You_ would love him.”

She hums, kicking off the counter, and as if on cue the doorbell rings. “Honestly? I already do.”

* * *

 

Ryan walks up to his apartment door, noticing that the potted plant where he usually kept the spare key was moved aside. Without having to guess who took it, he smiles as he unlocks his threshold to find Shane already plopped on his couch, chewing on a bowl of popcorn.

His neck twists around at the sound of the door closing, eyes visibly lighting up from where Ryan’s standing. “Oh hey, you’re home!”

Ryan blushes. The situation seems a little bit too domestic, but when he says “Yeah, I’m home” as he goes and settles down next to Shane, it doesn’t feel so weird. Comfortable even. Scary comfortable. His heart starts beating a little faster when he asks, “What are you watching?”

“Reality TV. I wanted to rewatch Jurassic Park but thought we could just watch it together.”

Ryan casually kicks his feet up on the coffee table, willing to not let his voice tremble when he replies a quick, “Cool. I’m up for it.”

“Great! Oldest to recent or the other way around? You get to choose, but you’ll be on popcorn duty—oh, would you look at that? We’re out of popcorn!” Shane mocks shock as he showcases his empty bowl to Ryan, who just rolls his eyes. “What a disaster!”

“Alright alright, you get to pick. I’m too lazy to stand up now anyway.” _And I need a moment to calm down because I kind of realized that I loved you a week ago and now I’m kinda coming to terms with it even though its still kinda scary as fuc—_

“Wise choice.” Shane winks at him, cutting off his panicked thoughts, which he realizes he doesn’t mind so much now too. He’s still not used to it, but then again it’s Shane.

He’ll never get used to him, and he never…wants to.

Ryan’s scared.

But a good scared.

Whatever that means.

He watches the tall man standing up gleefully and start making his way to the kitchen when he abruptly stops, doing a complete one-eighty. “Oh, by the way, will you marry me?”

Ryan just stares at him, heart still racing, and laughs. Hard. Ignoring the confused but smiling expression on Shane’s face.

If Shane notices how he hasn’t said no, and continues to do so for the days to come, he doesn’t mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's a sweetheart, so naturally I'd imagine his mother's a sweetheart. No doubt she is. Anyway, Ryan's a family guy and I like the thought of him being more open with them enough to talk about this kind of stuff than with a friend, hence the kitchen scene...which was originally a Steven Lim scene. welp.  
> Again, thank you so much for the kudos and comments(especially the comments)! It made me really happy to know how ya'll think about this. See you next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I honestly dont know what to tell you. Just more fluff tbh. Cranked up to disgustingly sweet and a few repetitive words here and there and also the stupidest song known to mankind. And also, a hint of incoming...angst?(ooooooooooooooh) Read to find out. *emotional*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE WAIT. I wanted to get this done earlier, but honestly this was by far the hardest chapter to write because I most definitely did not think it through and it shows. Also, homework's a bitch. And my beta's not available till tomorrow sooooo...
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys like this mess of a chapter. ENjoy! Also THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVELY RESPONSES :D

_Day 182_

“What…the fuck.”

The world is against him.

From the moment Ryan realizes the time on his alarm is way past when it should’ve been set, the world made it’s greatly passionate loathing for the man very evident. Time itself seems to slow down as he slowly processes just exactly what kind of trouble he’s going to be balls deep into in his half-awake state of mind, watching the clock tick.

And tick.

_Maybe if I blink it’ll turn out to be an illusion._

And tock.

_Nope. Still half past 10._

Tick.

_What the fuck._

Tock.

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

The next three moments of the world’s complete lack of sympathy for Ryan are as follows:

1.) The typically logical reason for tripping or slipping on things is because of the person’s lack of patience and inability to just calm the fuck down. Sometimes there’s just no one else to blame but themselves—which Ryan concludes is total bullshit. The victims shouldn’t be blamed for how unfair circumstances just are sometimes that they have to be the ones to adjust and keep up with the timing. The point is—he fell in the shower. It’s not his fault.

2.) After a full record of fifteen-minute-changing, Ryan’s out of his apartment and speeding across L.A. traffic like he came straight out of a Fast & Furious movie. If he woke up earlier(“You had one goddamn job, you shitty clock,”), then he would’ve been able to have some spare time to make himself coffee in the office. But circumstances being what they are, he can’t exactly do that now, not when he’s dead set on catching the two-week due reservation he made for the sound booth that should be up in about…thirty minutes. So the plan his brain derives from this situation is to just get Starbucks on the way, the only problem being he has to wait in line.

Not a problem, he thought. _Let’s not make it a problem Ryan, you’ve got enough of it as it is._

And it actually doesn’t end up becoming a problem, because there was no line when he got there, and he seemed to catch the barista on a relatively good day when the latter offered him a free cupcake, which he gladly took. Ryan thanks him on the way out, because his own morning seems to be looking up a little.

Until a kid bumps into him on the way to his car, spilling at least a quarter of his coffee all over his—he looks down…shit—now heavily stained white shirt.

_Jinxed it, you bitch._

Ryan groans, ignoring the hellish whirpool that is the burning insides of his car. He puts the boxed cupcake aside, sighs and drives to work, ignoring the feeling of the fabric sticking against his skin.

People stare at him when he enters the office with the most widespread coffee stain one could have on a shirt in the morning. Still, because he’s Ryan, they still greet him and share their sympathies. Steven offers to lend him an extra shirt he’d brought, but Ryan refuses. He’s seen the sleeves of the shirts he wears—they wouldn’t last five seconds with Ryan’s arms in them, not that he’s gloating.

Though he’d deserve it.

Ryan thinks he deserves anything better than a morning like this.

His state of mind isn’t even working right. _What was I thinking about?_

“Earth to Ryan? Hellooo.”

Like abruptly putting autopilot back on manual, Ryan nearly stumbles over himself before realizing he nearly walked passed his own desk.

Shane’s already lounging in his own chair, feet kicked up on his side of the desk. As soon as Ryan acknowledges his presence he stands up from the position and beams.

“You’re looking dandy.”

Ryan shoots him a blank look, proceeding to look bemused at the seemingly sunshine-injected mood that is Shane Madej’s face, but it’s not until he gives him a painfully slow once-over when he realizes that something’s up—he’s wearing his favorite floral shirt, the bluest of all his blue-filled wardrobe, which is not often because he preserves it a lot. His hands are also tucked into the pockets of his jeans, which he does when he’s nervous, or waiting for something. To top it all off is—again—that stupidly happy looking grin on his face that Ryan wishes he had the luxury of returning because when Shane’s happy, he’s happy, or is what the effect usually is.

Right now, he just wants to shoots that look off his face.

“Ha. Funny.” Is what he remarks with, his free hand vaguely gesturing to his shirt.

Shane doesn’t seem to get the message though, instead looking a little brighter.

Well, at least one of them is happy.

“Did you clock me in?” Ryan asks, despite not hiding his clear distaste in Shane’s sharp contrast in mood. The latter nods. “Thanks.”

“Anything for you sweet beans.”

 Ryan holds back a glare. “Hm.”

He dumps his bag on his chair and downs the rest of his coffee.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Ryan quirks a brow at him, wiping his mouth off. “Uh…no?”

Shane’s smile falters very slightly that Ryan nearly misses it. “Really?”

“I don’t know man. It’s been a shitty day so far, as you can see.” Shane nods reluctantly. Ryan sighs. “Why? Is there something I should remember?”

“Uh—“ Shane starts, then slowly trails off, eyes shifting from Ryan’s to the floor. “Um…no, I guess not.”

Ryan feels a pang of concern in his chest, “Are you sure?”

“Yep!” Shane gives a thumbs up. Ryan eyes him suspiciously, then gives up as soon as he does. He’s too tired and grossed out to dwell on anything.

“Well in that case, we’ve gotta get to the sound booth in 5. We don’t have much time big guy.” He tells him, scooping the laptop off his desk before he’s moving again.

He pauses a few steps later when he doesn’t hear Shane behind him, looking back to see that the happy look had disappeared, replaced by a subtle frown. Ryan frowns too, confused at the sudden change in demeanor. “You coming big guy?”

Shane seems to snap out of something, waving him off with a now uncertain smile on his face. “Uh, yeah. I’ll be there, see you in 5.”

Ryan stares at him for a few seconds, admittedly a little worried and a nagging feeling at the back of his head that he’s missing something. He shakes his head, and because he’s totally gone for him at this point, returns the smile with what fondness he can currently muster. Shane seems satisfied and beckons him to go on ahead, and so he does.

A moment later, Ryan finds himself standing in front of the door to the sound booth when he realizes how hungry he is.

He looks around, watching his coworkers going about their day as he feels the emptiness of his stomach translating into a long, audible growl. He suspiciously observes the people in the area for a little while longer—preferably a miss Sara Rubin whose working at her desk from Ryan’s view, who he knows has also been a part of the sound booth waiting list for a while now—before sighing. Figuring that he should just let himself relax from the overall shittiness that the morning has brought him so far, he decides he’ll pop by the break room for a quick bite. It’s not like anyone else is in a hurry as much as he is anyway, and Shane will probably occupy it before anyone else will.

His thoughts shift to his coworker as he switches routes for the break room, recalling the look on his face before he left. Shane looked like a kicked puppy now that Ryan thinks about it, making him wonder if he really did forget something. Something important. Which confuses him because as far as he knows Shane hasn’t really hinted at anything going on recently, and the sound booth reservation is honestly all he had been thinking about all week aside from packing for next week’s filming.

Maybe it has something do with the shirt? Ryan nearly ridicules the thought before making sense of it. It is Shane’s favorite shirt after all. He makes a mental note to compliment him about it later.

The break room’s relatively empty except for Zach seemingly dazed about something by the water dispenser. Ryan nods in acknowledgement when they make eye contact, ignoring the not so subtle glance Zach made at his shirt. He fumbles around the cabinets for a protein bar, tearing one open as soon as he’s grabbed three and leans against the kitchenette’s small counter. As soon as he’s one bite in, he notices the dry and sour taste of his mouth mixed with an aftertaste of coffee and cringes. Fuck. Hopefully his lack of initiating conversation saved anyone the realization that he’s still sporting morning breath.

Wait, fuck again. What if _Shane_ realized it? They shared more than a few sentences, so maybe that’s why his mood dropped.

Ryan’s in the middle of his internal battle(Shane would’ve at least commented on it right?) when his eye catches sight of the calendar hanging across the room, the date today marked in blue marker.

 _May 16_. Ryan exhales out of his nose, chewing slowly. _What’s so special about you?_

Though as he wonders, Ryan feels like its achingly, dreadfully familiar, and he doesn’t like it.

“Hey, Ryan?”

Zach enters his line of vision, blocking the calendar from sight. “Hm?” Ryan inquires without opening his mouth, now blatantly self-conscious. The Try Guy member nervously grins at him—a good indicator that he is not in fact nervous, and actually wants something from him.

“I know it’s weird to ask about this stuff at work but if you don’t mind, what did you get him?”

Ryan tilts his head. “Get him?” He repeats, covering his mouth.

Zach visibly sags in relief. “Oh thank god, you didn’t get him anything yet too did you? Don’t worry, I’ve been worried about it all morning—“

“Get who anything?” Ryan’s really confused now, and it doesn’t help that he’s slightly uncomfortable talking in this state. Zach pauses in his rambling to look equally confused as him.

“Wait, you don’t know?”

“No...” Ryan drawls, though it comes out questioning. Zach practically gapes at him. The dread comes back in full force.

“Damn Bergara. You, of all people?”

Ryan doesn’t like his disappointed tone. “What are you on about Kornfield?”

Zach’s mouth opens widely in a move to blurt something out then stops, looking mortified for a moment before looking around and relaxing. He lowers his voice, yet it only intensifies Ryan’s blood running cold under his skin when he whispers the words.

“Shane, dude. It’s his birthday, and Jen’s throwing him a party at the pub later! Seriously, of all people I wouldn’t expect that you…”

Zach continues talking, seemingly unaware of the terror-stricken expression on Ryan’s face as his mind goes through a brief malfunction.

It’s…Shane’s birthday.

What the fuck.

“What the fuck.” He repeats, not at all caring about the grossed out expression on Zach’s face when he removes his hand from his mouth to say it. Then he says it again. And again.

3.) It’s Shane’s birthday.

What the fuck.

* * *

 

So.

Ryan has a plan.

He rubs at his temple as he paces around in his living room, mind struggling to keep up with the events that just transpired. After changing into a new shirt and stripping down to his boxers, he didn’t waste time in organizing the rest of the idea he had thought up in the car on the way home. Sure, he’d admit there’s something weird about brainstorming around your living room with nothing but your underwear on, but there’s more important matters to attend to.

Like his plan.

So far, Ryan’s finished phase one of his “plan”, which his mindfucked brain conjured up as soon as he regained some semblance of sanity after Zach revealed just how much of an ass he’d been. He ran out of the room, straight to Sarah’s desk and practically begged her to trade reservations with him. Thankfully, she was more than happy to oblige(though a bit concerned at how jumpy he was), and now his sound booth reservation has been moved to tomorrow, which doesn’t seem so bad now with his current predicament. Perfect, actually.

Phase two, leave work. It wasn’t hard to get Zach to cover for him when he feigned a bad stomach and ran as soon as he got out of the building. What’s hard was forgetting about Shane(ironically), and having to text him about going home, because he ‘realized he was sick’.

…okay, so maybe that was a bit of an asshole move, and he actually hasn’t thought of his plan coming this far.

But he’ll make up for it. He will.

How funny of a grown ass man to pull the sick card at work just to make up for his not-really-but-kinda-getting-there boyfriend, now that Ryan thinks about it. He chuckles to himself in equal parts disbelief and amazement. God he’s fucked.

He pauses and stands still for a moment, staring off into space for a few minutes when his eyes fall on a certain object leaning against the wall next to his small bookshelf. The burst of inspiration that strikes through Ryan’s chest is immediate, and he beams.

The stupidest, silliest, dumbest fucking idea flashes through his head.

And it’s perfect.

A text coming from Shane informs him that he’s coming over as soon as he’s done with work ten minutes later, and Ryan’s never felt more excited.

Walking toward his bookshelf, he sets his plan into motion.

* * *

 

“Honey, I’m home!”

Ryan rolls his eyes from his spot on the breakfast bar, smiling despite himself. His knee is shaking with giddiness though, his hands fumbling with the weight of what he’s holding.

“I can’t smell anything from out here, so I’m assuming you’re not dead.” Ryan snorts. “But you gotta answer the door buddy, I’m getting a bit concerned here.”

He stays silent, quietly watching Shane’s shadow shift around from the small space underneath the door through the dim light of the candle next to him. Ryan listens as Shane presumably gives up and finally hears him pick up the fake plant in the hallway, the sound of the key lodging into the knob. “Alright, I’m coming in.”

“Was counting on it,” Ryan whispers.

Shane walks in, still in his favorite navy blue button-up and dropping his bag on the floor as he closes the door behind him. He doesn’t notice Ryan just yet, arm reaching for the light switch when he finally spots the light of the candle that’s carefully propped up on a little blue cupcake, it’s light flickering slightly in the presence of the AC.

Ryan watches the exact moment Shane’s eyes widen in realization, before slowly looking up to meet his.

He smiles at him, nervously adjusting the guitar in his arms as he clears his throat. Shane just stares at him, though Ryan can’t really tell his exact expression from this distance, the candlelight not really able to reach him.

Ryan positions his fingers, and strums.

“…no witch can say.”

And just like that, the trance is broken, and Shane bursts out laughing. Ryan grins, strumming the next chord with dramatic flair as he hopped off the stool. “Which way is the right way!”

“Ryan, oh my God.” Shane wheezes uncontrollably, hunched over in an attempt to clutch his stomach.

“You just got to trust what you feel in your heart.” Ryan continues to sing, making an awkward spin in tune with the song as he keeps strumming. Shane plops down on his couch, laughing into his hand.

The candle nearly flickered out when Ryan spun, but as stupid as he’s being right now, Shane’s clearly enjoying himself. Mission accomplished-ish. He’s not yet done. And far from it.

Ryan winks. “No witch can see.”

“No witch can see…” Shane whispers, making Ryan hold back a laugh so he could continue.

“How things ever come to bee-hee…” Shane smirks, and Ryan rolls his eyes again, “…like how the Hot Daga became high art.” He stopped strumming just to pull a face. Shane’s grin grew impossibly wider.

“An evil hot dog witch is trying…” Ryan strums wildly, “to tear us apaaaaaaaart!”

“Stop holy shit I can’t—“ Shane is doubling over on the couch now, and Ryan takes the opportunity to jump and land right on his feet on the cushions next to him. He wobbles a bit from the weight of the guitar against him so Shane steadies him, still struggling to breathe through his giggles.

Ryan sings the incredibly horrible song at the top of his lungs, strumming like the guitar was electric instead of acoustic. He looked down at Shane, who was looking up at him like he was Jesus himself.

Maybe he was. He had to be someone powerful to pull off stupid shit like this, right?

 _Who the fuck am I kidding?_ Ryan nudges Shane with his leg. _The reason is right in front of me._

“So long as you’ve got your friends, there’s nothing you cannot do!”

“Come witches or raccoons!” Shane sings along, climbing on the coffee table and towering Ryan over. “No sir—“

“—they cannot get to you!” Ryan supplies, changing from one chord to the next. Playing guitar almost always feels like a part of him that he rarely even notices that he’s still playing.

“It helps if you could be a character, rich, compelling, adored worldwide.”

“But it’s hard to relish life…” They both sing, Ryan flicking his wrist to a single strum for a dramatic pause. They look at each other, waiting for the other to make the finale.

“Finish it Ryan.”

“It’s stupid.”

Shane gives him a pointed look, and Ryan sighs, strumming again.

“Without your best friends by your…side…”

With one last strum, the song finishes. They both wait until the sound of the strings are completely rung out before they start filling the room with boisterous laughter. Ryan wheezes the air out of his lungs as he pushes Shane off of his coffee table, sending him off in a tangle of limbs, still looped in an endless laughing fit.

Ryan calms down after a few seconds to place the guitar in a safe place beside the couch, and his silence has brought Shane’s laugh to become clearer in the small space of his living room. They wheeze a lot sure, but when Shane laughs, like really laughs, it makes him resemble something like a giddied child that just heard it’s first joke and Ryan couldn’t feel possibly more endeared by it.

It’s not when Ryan collapses down on the couch and Shane crawling on the floor to get next to him does his laughter die down. Ryan helps him into the couch, and they share another chuckle when their eyes meet.

But before he could forget, Ryan abruptly stands up and walks back over to the breakfast bar to briefly take back the cupcake before settling back next to Shane, who watches him with crinkled eyes that tell just how much he’s still laughing on the inside. With the light of the candle closer to him now, it manages to make his expression look a little brighter. Better than how looked earlier that morning.

Ryan feels accomplished, but again, he’s not done yet.

“I, uh…I kinda screwed up.” He starts, the free hand not holding the cupcake up between them rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I mean—I swear, I totally didn’t mean to forget your birthday or anything. It’s just that it’s been a busy week and you know how sleep deprived I get so it kinda must made things worse and I’m pretty sure it’s clear that I’ve had a really shitty morning before I even got to the office—“

“Ry, come on. It’s alright.” Shane assures, but Ryan shakes his head.

“No, it’s not I—I shouldn’t have forgotten. Really. I remember the way you looked at me this morning and I can’t—God I was an asshole. I was mad and upset and you were just so happy and…I should’ve known, at least remembered. As your best friend, as your…” Ryan trails off, Shane smiling softly at him. He returns it. “…well, yeah. I’m sorry, Shane.”

“Dude, it’s okay. I’ve seen how stressed out you’ve been the past few weeks, it’s not your fault that you’ve been preoccupied with other things. It’s fine.” His fingers toy with the end of Ryan’s sleeve, looking at him with sincerity. “Just another year for dear ol’ me. There’s more to come. It ain’t that important.”

“That’s the thing Shane. You’re important.”

Shane’s fingers freeze and he blinks at Ryan. Ryan blinks back, immediately recognizing the feeling of warmth spreading across his face. “I-I mean, you _are_ important to me so…”

“Huh, yeah. Well, thank you.” Shane clears his throat, hand covering his mouth as he rubs at his stubble. Ryan can see the tips of his ears turn pink, even in the dim light of the candle light. It’s officially the most adorable thing he’s ever witnessed.

Suddenly, Shane seems to recover from his embarrassment, smirking. “So, you decided to make it up to me by finally confessing your unending love for the Hot Daga?”

Ryan wheezes. “Oh my God—“

“Through _song_ nonetheless. _Ryan_.” Shane clutches at his chest with a gasp. “You’ve never done such a romantic act for me before. _I_ wanted you to play the guitar.”

“You know what? Fine. I played the song because it’s your day and it _is_ for you, dick.”

“Ssh. Language Ryan. The birthday boy might hear you.”

Ryan snorts, but doesn’t bite back. Instead he stares down at the cupcake between them with a smile on his face. The candle’s lived pretty long—not much wax has actually melted since he’s lit it, and it’s been a while. He still wrapped a bit of foil where he stuck it in the cupcake though, to be safe.

In his peripheral, he can see Shane intensely gazing at it as well.

“So, was that my present?”

“Hm?”

“The song.”

“Oh, right.” Ryan looks back up at him, grinning sheepishly. “Yeah, it kind of was, initially. But I have a better one.”

“Oh?” Shane’s brows perk up in interest. “Will you marry me?”

Ryan gives him a blank look. Shane pouts. “Okay, well, then what is it?”

“Patience.” Ryan says as brings up his knees and turns to face Shane fully. Shane looks confused at this, but mimics him. When their legs(Ryan’s normal ones and Shane stupidly long limbs), are finally tangled up in between them making them look like teenage girls about to share fat gossip on a sleepover(which Shane points out, Ryan ignores him), Ryan says “I have a few things to say first.”

“Hm. Alright.” Shane rests his chin on his knees. Their faces are actually pretty close in this position, close enough that Ryan can count each individual lash on Shane’s eyelids, the cupcake and it’s light being the only barrier between them. “Lay it on me.”

Ryan breathes in. “Okay…where do I start.”

“With how entranced you actually are by my irresistibly good looks and charming wit.”

Ryan harrumphs, but doesn’t reply. Not like he can deny it.

“…thank you, I guess.”

Shane nods in understanding. “You’re welcome.”

Ryan squints at him. “What, really?”

“Oh, you don’t mean thank you for me being good looking?”

“Why are you still on about that?”

Shane shrugs. “Then, you’re thanking me for…?”

As much as they’ve been bantering up until this moment, Ryan couldn’t shake off the amount of vulnerability he feels at what he’s about to say. He stares at Shane, hoping he could convey what he feels with just that look alone, but when the guy only keeps looking at him expectantly Ryan sighs.

“Thank you. For being here.”

He expected something of a quip, or at least a light-hearted remark. Shane stays quiet though, so he continues.

“I’ve been doing Unsolved for, what, three years? And it’s been…amazing. Fantastic. It’s my baby, of course. I honestly couldn’t have imagined that I’d make it this far until now, because it’s always been just a fantasy at the start. A small little dream turned small little project and then one day it just…” Ryan sighs. “I didn’t expect to make it this far. I really didn’t. It’s been a great three years, a really fun time.”

He pauses, before looking up when he realizes that he’s stopped looking Shane in the eye. He makes eye contact again, saying “But sometimes I just wonder if it’s really been just as fun for you.”

Shane still doesn’t say anything. His eyes grew just the tiniest bit wide, clearly a bit taken aback, but he stays quiet. Ryan breaths out a laugh. “Yeah. I know. I’m not assuming that you’re doing the show under some sort of obligation or just because of the fans or…me…” Ryan suddenly finds it difficult to breathe. “…but whatever the reason is I just—really, really want to thank you. For staying.”

“Ryan.” Shane finally says with a genuine tone, “I’ve always had fun.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

The small smile returns to both of their faces. Ryan swallows. “It’s…It’s not just about the show either.” He brings his other hand up to hold the cupcake with both hands, “…thank you, for always being there when I need you. For being my friend. Heck, even when I don’t need you or just incredibly pissed at you anyway, you’re always just…there. Ready to make up with me. Ready to move on.” Ryan laughs again, more to himself this time as he remembers the first time he’s realized his feelings for him. “Right beside me. Right there. Right _here_.”

“Where? Here?” Shane pokes the left side of Ryan’s chest.

“You get what I fucking mean.” He still doesn’t deny it. “…thank you for staying Sasquatch. Jesus, sometimes I wonder just how much you have to put up with me, you know, being who I am.”

“Well, you’ve got your quirks.” Ryan glares at him, but his smile betrays him. “But you’re more than that. Yes you’re Ryan, the guy who can’t clean his side of the desk to save his life, the guy who’s got bags baggier than Gucci, the guy who believes in air.” The latter rolls his eyes at him, but freezes when Shane reaches both hands to cup them around Ryan’s own, around the cupcake.

“But you’re also…Ryan. The guy who believes in something and can be brave enough to face it, the guy that dedicates his heart and soul deeply to the people he loves, the guy who talks way too much about amusement parks but whose excitement I’d never trade for the world. Many, many more...”

Ryan nearly tears up, trying to hold it back. But it’s hard when Shane’s looking at him like that.

“You’re Ryan, the guy I’m stupidly in love with.” Shane chuckles, “Of course I’d stay.”

Ryan ducks down to rub his eyes against his jeans, Shane just continues, “Hell, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, whether you’d like it or not. Fuck, I’m the one that’s a lot to put up with, aren’t I?”

He looks up at Shane, at the confident smile on his lips and the uncertainty swimming around his brown eyes. He’s never acknowledged those two things together before, but he’s seen it, for what feels like half a year now, and suddenly it makes sense.

Shane never actually expects Ryan to say yes to him when he asks the question, and by treating it as something less serious than it actually is, then nothing has to change. Because if they both don’t take it seriously, their dynamic doesn’t have to change, and they’ll just be the same as they’ve always been.

Except they _have_ been changing. At least Ryan knows he has been.

He wonders just how much of that Shane’s realized for himself.

“Never.” It comes out as a whisper, but Shane hears it all the same, his smile growing wider with Ryan’s own. “And even so, we’ve both made it this far. Why stop now? We’re a package deal.” He looks down at Shane’s big hands, encased around his. “…I’d go anywhere you go too.”

“Even the Sallie house?”

Ryan releases one hand smack Shane behind the head.

“Ow!”

“It was a moment. We had a moment.” Ryan sighs, though it comes out more fond than annoyed. “You just ruined the moment.”

“Sorry Ricky, but if you’d mind, me and Ryan were having a bit of a moment there.”

“I’m blowing this candle out.”

“No!” Shane looks genuinely offended at the smirk on Ryan’s face. “My wish!”

“Real mature.”

“No, Ryan. It’s kind of how birthdays work. The birthday person blows the candle, not small good-looking jerks.”

Ryan positions his lips for a blow and Shane headbutts him. “Stop it.”

Ryan mock glares at him, Shane glaring back, but it doesn’t last long before they both start laughing again.

It’s been a weird afternoon.

Their laughter dies down into a silent sharing of smiles, and before it could get any more disgustingly sweeter than it has any right to be, Ryan nudges Shane with his foot, which is buried flat under the man’s thigh. “Alright. You may now make a wish.”

“I wish for unlimited wishes.”

“Shane.”

“Alriiiiight.” He whines. “Can I say it out loud?”

“It doesn’t really work that way does it,” Ryan quips with a smug smile, Shane rolling his eyes at him this time, “but sure. Your day, do as you…wish.”

“That was so bad.” Ryan shrugs, and Shane faces his attention fully on the candle between them, closing his eyes. Ryan snickers.

“I wish…” He starts, dramatically prolonging the “sh” sound, but nothing could prepare Ryan for when Shane opens his eyes again, staring him down, whispering in a much softer voice than before like he’s talking to a twinkling star in the night.

And the star is Ryan.

“I wish that one day…he’ll say yes.”

Ryan holds his gaze, suddenly more self-conscious of Shane’s hands surrounding his, of the light possibly illuminating the probably shocked look on his face, of the way Shane’s looking at him.

Before he knows it, he finally leans in, slowly, and Shane meets him in the middle.

The kiss isn’t as fierce or as passionate as Ryan admittedly expected that their first kiss would be—just a simple touch of lips, a slow, tentative movement as they get familiar with their lips on the other. A kiss that perfectly sums up what actually feels like a first kiss that’s been a long time coming, and Ryan wouldn’t have had it any other way.

When they pull away, foreheads leaning against the other, Shane laughs first. Ryan quickly follows, nearly not believing it himself.

The small flame continues to simmer between them, and Shane blows it off. The room is plunged into darkness, making Ryan’s sensory lamp in the corner automatically turn on, giving the room more of a faint orange hue. Their noses brush as Shane shifts his head against his so his eyes could see him better.

“Happy Birthday big guy.”

Shane smirks. “Was that the gift?”

Ryan giggles. “Yep.”

“Am I getting more of those in the future?”

“Sorry bud. For birthday boys only.”

“I’m technically still a birthday boy, though.”

Ryan sticks his tongue out. “Unless you’re planning to ditch the birthday party Jen’s throwing for you then I’m running out of options to offer you here pal.”

Shane groans, “Tempting. But fine.” He sighs. “I could wait till next time.”

Ryan blushes at that. “Yeah, alright. Wait for your next big day.”

“Yeah. Our wedding day.”

Truth be told, Ryan would’ve kissed him at that moment to shut him up, or at least give him a playful punch on the shoulder, but something about the way Shane said it sounds like a promise. And if it is, he doesn’t know what to make of it. It caught him off guard.

Somehow, he’s scared again.

A different kind of scared. The real kind, tinged with something else.

“Whatever.” He says with a smile, and a heart beating against his ribcage so heavily that he doesn’t know what it means anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #bergaraguitara, and yes, that was the hotdaga song. Listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aUSVT733DJg&pbjreload=10)
> 
> So, Im not particularly happy with how this turned out, but it's good enough I guess. I edited it way too many times and I still seek my beta's validation so *shrug* Hope it wasn't too bad lmao half of this was made with me sleep-deprived.
> 
> As usual, comments help! Thank you so so much for reading this far and hopefully you guys will stick around for next chapter because BOI OH BOI am I excited for that one! (Mainly because there will be angst, but it wont be a problem I promise you wont even know its there :P) 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long but its back now and its packed yo.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zlFuLTNAKw - listen to this song before reading if you wanna know the feel of that one scene *coucgh coughcd* you'll see :D

_Day 210_

“…a ballroom party?”

“Yep.”

Shane squints at Ryan, not believing him. Ryan squints back, in the way that implies that he’s not shitting with him.

“…at Buzzfeed?”

“Yep.”

They both stay like that for a moment, Shane looking confused up at Ryan in his chair with coffee midway up to his mouth, Ryan looking down at Shane with nerves at the back of his brain(and heart and stomach) going haywire. Shane’s eyes momentarily shift to Curly, who’s standing behind Ryan with a suspiciously angelic smile on his face.

“I’m a bit lost here Ryan.”

Curly nudges Ryan’s side, making the man nudge him back in retaliation.

“Why don’t _you_ say it…?” Ryan whispers indignantly, as if it matters since Shane is literally right in front of him. Curly just grins wider, like a cat, with claw-like nails too.

“He’ll say yes if it’s you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Say yes to what? Hey, come on, I’m right here.” Shane’s put down his coffee so he could clap with both hands, grabbing both their attention. He rolls his chair to face them fully, resting his cheek against his palm with an arm perched on the desk. Somehow, the action makes Ryan more nervous than he already is, beginning to regret his life decisions all up to the moment he’d said yes to Curly.

He should’ve known better than to say yes to Curly.

Shane smiles up at him. “Spit it out Ry.”

Ryan swallows. “A video. It’s for a video.”

“Oh?” Shane looks between the both of them again, his expression now a little more knowing. “Do tell.”

There’s nothing Shane loves more than a Ryan in distress.

Ryan inhales. He’s in deep, deep distress, and Shane’s already enjoying it. He hasn’t even said the worst part yet.

“It’s just—we’re gonna, um…” He raises a hand and gestures to the both of them, back and forth, before realizing it only makes things more awkward and sets it back down. “Curly—yeah he, um—so it’s just, nothing—really—“

“Oh for the love of God Bergara,” Curly sighs dramatically, stepping in front of him. “Shane, you two are gonna dance.”

Shane’s brows rise up, finally showing full interest. “Really?”

Ryan fidgets where he stands, thankful for Curly stepping in but his pulse also blowing up on the spot. He bashfully looks up at Shane, whose already looking at him in amusement, smirk hidden behind his hand.

“Yes!” Curly clasps his hands together, then holds it out towards the both of them. “You two will be dancing for my video, surprise ballroom male dance partners,”

“That name’s a bit all over the place,”

“I’m working on it,”

“I still don’t understand the gist of it though.” Shane says, “So, me and Ryan will be dancing at a Ballroom party?”

Curly nods. “Yep, but it’ll only be the two of you.”

“Don’t people normally dance at ballroom parties?” Shane huffs out a laugh, bringing his hands up behind his head. “Sorry, but I’m not really able to wrap my head around this ballroom party thing yet. I didn’t know BuzzFeed would even allow it.”

“It’s _BuzzFeed_ Shane, what are you talking about?” Shane bobs his head, as if to say ‘good point’. Curly grabs the nearest available chair (which Ryan was going to reach for but was beaten to it) and settles down with deftly manicured hands meticulously perched upon his lap. “Alright, I guess I haven’t really explained myself too well, so let me fill you in on the details.”

“Could’ve used the same offer before you tricked me into saying yes,” Ryan grumbles, grabbing a different chair and rolling it next to Shane’s. Curly just smiles innocently at him, Shane snickering as Ryan sits down beside him.

“Why? What did he say?”

“Nothing. He asked me if I wanted to be in a video about ballroom parties and I said yes.”

Shane raises a brow, “And you’re mad because…?”

“I’m not _mad_. And also, he said ballroom _parties_ , not ballroom _dancing_. There’s a difference. I thought he was just gonna dress people up in ballroom attires or something. List ballroom facts. Ballroom food? Reaction? You get my point.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not that far off.” Curly comments. Ryan glares at him.

“Anyway, here’s what happened. Remember the men in heels video you were in?” Shane nodded, “My friend’s a choreographer at this academy. He watched the video and when he saw you, he immediately called me and said ‘I need to see this guy dance!’, so I sent him a few links.”

Videos that came to mind included the belly dancing video, Ryan looking at Shane’s reaction to see that he’s thinking the same thing. He coughs. “That’s alright, but did you include the…”

“The time you were in a cheerleader outfit? Yes. Yes I did. I know it wasn’t dance related, I just sent it for funsies.”

Shane scratches at his neck. “Oh.”

“I liked that video.” Ryan decides to mention, just to ease Shane’s embarrassment. He, however, is not willing to elaborate, like what Shane’s raised brow is implying.

 “Yes, sorry, I know it’s embarrassing, but since it was technically open to the public I didn’t really think twice about sending it to him. But he did tell me that ‘this guy needs a bit of work, that those legs could definitely be put to good use’, and the idea immediately hit me.” Curly trails off, “Well, he wanted ballet, but I was already vibing more with the ballroom idea. He said it works too. So!” He raises his hands, “you two will be dancing the waltz.”

The taller of the two nods. “Huh. Interesting.”

“Are you serious?” Ryan gawks at him, Shane shrugs.

“Can’t be worse than all the other embarrassing things we’ve done on camera. I mean, it’s just dancing.”

“Just dancing, sure. But it’s waltz, Shane. _Waltz_.”

“And?”

“Are you kidding m—I stepped on my ex-girlfriend’s foot _twice_ trying to slow dance with her at prom, and we lasted ten steps before giving up. What makes you think we’d last an entire song?”

Shane shrugs. “Shouldn’t be too hard. We did it before didn’t we?”

“Yeah, like a foot away from each other—and we were basically just stepping to the right and left.”

“Wait, that’s not all there is to it?”

Ryan groans. “Curly. _Why?_ ”

“Giving the people what they want Ryan, and also helping a friend. Speaking of—you shouldn’t have to worry about not knowing waltz!” Curly coos, “My friend’s an expert. It shouldn’t be a problem. He’ll be teaching you the ropes and I’m confident he’ll do a damn good job at it.”

“Cool.” Shane says.

“Great.” Ryan adds, sarcastically. Then sighs, “When’s the ballroom event happening anyway?”

“Next Friday.”

Shane blinks, twice, backpedalling a little, “what?” Ryan says nothing, too confused to.

“The event’s happening Friday next week! I’m informing the entire office today, and the higher ups already gave me the funds so I’m setting up the venue tomorrow—“

“Curly,” Ryan starts, holding a hand up, “you expect us to learn waltz, and make up an entire four or five minute performance, in a _week_?”

“Well, yeah?”

“That’s impossible!”

Curly rolls his eyes. “Ryan, Ryan. Ever seen dancing with the stars?”

Shane finger guns him. “Good one.”

“Yeah I’ve seen it. But there’s two of us, completely inexperienced ballroom dancers, and only one of your friend. In a _week_.” Ryan huffs, running a hand through his hair, “there’s no way we can pull that off.”

“I think we can,”

“Dude.”

“You see a problem Ryan. I don’t.” Shane shrugs. “It’s not that big of a deal. Someone’s gonna teach me waltz. Imma do waltz. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Shane waves him off. Ryan huffs and bumps their shoulders together in a silent ‘please’, but Shane really pushes for it. “No. I’m simple. That’s kind of how it works. You worry about stuff. I don’t.”

“Well you don’t really have to worry about it Ry,” Curly adjusts his glasses as he says so, “I mean, if you don’t want to do it I can always find someone else.”

Shane shakes his head immediately. “Not doing it if it’s not him.”

Ryan stutters. Curly blinks, but nods. “I see.”

Shane looks at Ryan expectantly, eyebrows raised to form a questioning “well?”.

“I don’t know man. Not really feeling it.”

He should’ve seen it coming when Shane gracefully slings an arm around his shoulders. Not too close, but close enough that when the damn sasquatch smirks and says “But you will,”, Ryan suddenly doesn’t see any other options. The conversation’s dragged on long enough, and it’s not like he’s that against the idea of dancing. It’s just…who he’s dancing with. Or at least the idea of it.

He sighs.

“Yeah. Okay. Whatever.”

Shane beams at him, almost as much as Curly does as he spares a knowing look between the both of them. Ryan curls in on himself, self-consciousness starting to seep in because yeah, okay, they’re sort of dating now, but they’re not really _out_ , or exclusive if he feels like being pretentious. They haven’t even cleared things out between the two of them, still standing on that weird line between friends and…lovers. But their feelings _are_ mutual. Yeah.

He side-glances at Shane who notices his discomfort. He offers a reassuring smile before gently squeezing his shoulder and retracting his arm back completely, taking his warmth with it.

_Guilt._

Ryan frowns.

“Fantastic!” Curly snaps him out of it with a clap of his hands, glee just about radiating off of him in waves. Ryan can see it now—him and Shane on the thumbnail, views coming in faster than any Unsolved video could probably muster in the first place. He doesn’t understand Shane’s confusion because Buzzfeed’s obviously gonna have a field day with this—it’s them, and their bickering and their dynamic. It’s no secret that at least a third of their own coworkers can now see them as easy clickbait. Always at the expense of what’s left of their dignity, but who cares about that when you’ve got them views right?

Curly pulls out his phone and starts tapping away with abandon. Ryan leans back in his chair, sighing, then looks back at Shane. They smile at each other, making Ryan look away and sigh again.

This. It’s weird. They’re weird.

He’s fine with it. Fantastic even. _Right?_

Right.

“Alright so I just told Jean that you guys said yes and once I get the okay from him, you’ll be starting practice tomorrow morning.” A jovial hand meets Ryan’s own, it’s owner smiling genuinely at him and Shane. “You guys are really doing me a favor here and I can’t thank you enough.”

“Huge favor.” Ryan says, at the same time Shane says a chipper “No problem!”

“I’ll see you boys later. Adieu.”

As soon as their coworker’s walked at least ten feet away from them(a safe distance), Ryan briskly rolls past Shane to their desk, pointedly ignoring the confused look on his partner’s face. He doesn’t put his headphones on because that would be too harsh(as tempting as it is), instead determined to be one with the office, trying to fill his head with the workplace buzz and powering his desktop on and trying to rearrange the new script he’d printed earlier before realizing he’d already stapled all four pages together.

 _Fuck_ , he curses, just as Shane pokes him on the shoulder.

He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t have when he slowly turns his head to meet Shane’s eyes, hands the slightest bit tense even with how soft his grip on the papers are. Shane doesn’t seem to notice, though his smile doesn’t pair up with his eyebrows in the way that shows he’s concerned about _something_.

Ryan would laugh if he wasn’t feeling the same way.

“You alright?”

Ryan’s gaze zeroes in on where Shane’s hand is casually resting on the desk, right next to his. Long, spindly fingers stretched out right next to his balled fist.

He looks away.

“I’m tired.” He says honestly, smiling down at nothing. “But otherwise ready to pop some bones just to keep up with your stilts, I guess.”

“Oh good, for a second there my stilts were worried that they’d be too much for you to handle.” Shane muses, then his voice softens, “Seriously though. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t do it without you but, that doesn’t mean you have to do it.” He pauses for a moment. “…I’m sorry, for pushing you into it.”

“It’s fine! I already said yes anyway so. Really. Yeah uh, I was just concerned but you know—it’s fine. We’re fine.”

_We’re fine._

Ryan mentally slaps himself, eyes locked in on the staples of his script. Maybe he should consider stapling his mouth.

He’s not the best judge, but even with the hectic shuffles and scrambling noises emitted by the people busying around them, it doesn’t seem enough to fill in the growing space in the silence between them.

A silent Shane is a knowing Shane, and Ryan actually hopes he _does_ know. About him. About this, them, how he feels about it. But he doesn’t. Ryan knows he doesn’t. Not about this at least. This…thing that’s going on with him. Fuck, not even Ryan knows what’s going on with him.

_Just fucking say it._

Ryan stays quiet.

“It’ll be fun.”

Shane’s smiling when Ryan snaps back to reality. “Hu—what?”

“Marry me?”

 _There it is_. Ryan snorts and, stifling a laugh, looks at the small calendar on their desk.

_Been more than half a year, huh?_

“Seriously Shane.”

“Oh I’m very serious.” Shane says, not serious at all. He’s holding back a chuckle just as hard as Ryan is.

Idiots. Is what they are. But Shane’s his idiot. His? Yes. His. Shane’s said so himself. Ryan…

…is someone who can’t go five seconds without ruining his own mood. That’s who he is.

An idiot indeed.

“It’ll be fun.” Shane says again, nudging their legs together. “At least we’re not doing it for ghosts this time. Oh!”

“What?”

“We’re not the ghoul boys anymore.” Shane points a thumb to his chest, puffing it, “We get to be the Dance Lads!”

“The what now?”

“Dance Lads!”

Ryan tries pushing Shane’s chair away, shaking with laughter, “What the fuck Shane—“

“Too hip? How ‘bout Flailing Partners? Magnificently Brandishing, uh, Twirling Cohorts?”

A couple of eyes look their way at the sound of Ryan’s hand smacking their table. He doesn’t blame them—they should be working. Which they most certainly are not. “ _Magnifi_ —do you even hear what you’re saying right now?”

“Ballroom Bros? Chromatic Gliders?”

“This is getting out of hand.”

“What about spouses—“

“ _Okay_ you know what fine I agree it will be fun!” Ryan finishes with a (not-so)forced smile on his face, Shane cracking up shamelessly. “But just for the record…okay, dance lads does sound pretty cool.”

Shane grins, “Dance Lads it is!”

And just like that, they easily flow back into the usual banter. In the midst of their conversation it’s Ryan who starts to do the talking, rambling excitedly about a location he’d been researching over for months. As he watches Shane listen and nod along, Ryan decides to press his hand on top of his, watching the smile already present on the man’s face grow the slightest bit wider and not caring about whoever catches the reason why.

It’s not the best thing Ryan could offer. He knows that.

But it’s a start.

* * *

 

_Day 211_

“You’re so much taller in person!”

Shane huffs out a self-conscious laugh when their choreographer, presumably Jean, walks up to him and immediately starts playing with each of his lanky arms. He stretches them out and brings them up, then flaps them down, like Shane was an oversized origami. “These limbs— _mm_! The potential is excruciating. Curly, you are an angel.”

Curly executes a little bow while Ryan looks around next to him, eyes wandering to the mirrored walls. It’s not too different from what he sees at the gym save for the barres of waxed wood lined up across where he assumes ballet stuff happens. Instead of various gym equipment and a heap of sweaty masses, however, there's nothing but polished hardwood flooring and one little yoga ball tucked away in the corner.

He watches Shane’s sheepish-looking reflection on one of the walls, Jean continuously gushing about the man’s height even though the guy looks like he’s just a tad bit somewhere above six foot himself. Ryan guesses that it’s a dancer thing—he’s caught at least five people abruptly turn their heads to look at Shane ever since they’ve set foot in the department.

Shane gracefully inches away when Jean finally gets distracted enough by something Curly’s saying and catches Ryan looking at him through the mirror, winking. Ryan rolls his eyes and follows Shane to where he’s walking over to one of the bars. “Remember when we did cardio barre?”

“Are you asking me if I remember when you claimed how good it was and only went in like, 7 sessions while I completely hated it and went in 12?” Ryan snorts. “Because then, yes. Yes I do remember.”

“Oh lighten up Bergara. This is not exercise anymore.” Shane pats the barre, then wiggles his fingers like he’s releasing a patch of dust. “It’s magic.”

“Dancing?”

“What? Dancing’s magical. Especially the waltz.” Ryan opens his mouth to refute with one memory that he hadn’t found too magical when Shane shushes him. “Don’t break the illusion, killjoy.”

“Oh, so you’d consider magic but not ghosts?”

“Air isn’t magical Ryan.”  Shane does a small twirl, pausing with a flourish. His face is smug as he looks down at Ryan, his voice a mix of awe and knowing as he says “Doesn’t give you the vibe, if ya know what I’m sayin’.”

“I don’t.” Ryan shakes his head. “I really don’t.”

Shane whispers “killjoy” in his face. Ryan pokes his belly in retaliation.

“Listen up you two!” They both turn their heads at Curly, who’s mood has heightened twice as high since yesterday’s approval, big toothy smile glued to his face. The man next to him smiles just as widely, pearly white in contrast to tanned skin just slightly darker than Ryan’s. “Boys, let me properly introduce you to Jean. We go way back.”

“Way.” Jean emphasizes. “Enough to let me meet the both of you without making me contain my excitement!” He winks at Shane. “Sorry by the way. Couldn’t help myself.”

Shane nods as if he hadn’t been completely flustered just moments ago. “Glad to be of service!”

“His name’s Shane.” Curly nods to the both of them. “That one’s Ryan.”

Ryan nods back, bitterly. “That one, huh.”

He catches Jean giving him a quick once over and subtly straightens up a bit, crossing his arms casually. Shane seems to take notice, inching a little closer to Ryan’s side.

These reactions don’t skip past Curly, who raises his eyebrows in amusement. Jean, however, remains oblivious as he grabs hold of Ryan’s hand.

“Don’t be so mean Curly. He looks just as fine!” Jean pulls Ryan forward, seeing Shane’s hand twitch at the corner of his eye. He doesn’t expect the tall dancer to twirl him around so suddenly that Ryan nearly trips over when he does. “Body’s so fit—many wouldn’t find it too flexible but gosh do I wish I get to work with men who actually have muscles every once in a while.” Jean rolls his eyes with a sad sigh, easily maneuvering Ryan so their arms are over each other’s shoulders. The movement’s so fluid and almost practiced that Ryan falls completely in sync with it, relaxing into Jean’s hold.

Alright, so that did feel pretty magical.

“These arms too.” Jean whistles. “Impressive, Ryan. You could easily lift me up in a spin I’d bet.”

Now it’s Ryan’s turn to get flustered.

Not that he hasn’t received compliments about his arms before (nor is he denying the fact that it’s more validating than anything), but to have somebody who he’s barely met put it in the context of lifting someone over his shoulders, therefore bringing up the image of him in tight leotards with some girl in a split above him, is a little embarrassing to say the least.

Especially when his traitorous imagination puts a certain long legged companion in the imaginary girl’s place.

“Uh.” Ryan says, part not really knowing how to respond and mostly reeling from what his mind just conjured up.

“I wasn’t being mean.” Curly interjects matter-of-factly. “Ryan has been moody since Shane’s convinced him to do this. Frowning people make me want to frown back.”

Ryan wasn’t as much convinced as he was cornered, but opts to just roll his eyes anyway.

Still, Jean faces him with a look of concern, the proximity of his face reminding Ryan of how oddly close they are at the moment. “So…you don’t want to be here?”

Ryan frantically waves his free hand, “Nah, it’s fine! Curly’s told us how much you’d like to do this with Shane so…yeah, if he’s here I don’t mind tagging along. “He shrugs, bouncing Jean’s arm slightly. “We’re a packaged deal.”

Jean, hopefully not noticing Ryan’s sudden rise in temperature, squeezes him into a hearty side hug, smile intact. “Cool! Definitely looking forward to dancing with the two of you. I hope you’ll be patient with me, I can get pretty bossy.”

“I think it’s us you have to be patient with, but sure!” Ryan smiles back. Though he admittedly hadn’t expected him to be so touchy and, well, evidently wholesome(compared to Curly’s shenanigans), he’s also quickly finding it to be nothing less of a good thing. Jean’s a pretty neat guy.

He faces back to smile at Shane and is met with a blank look.

The smile quickly dissipates.

“You alright big guy?” Ryan asks, gently untangling himself from Jean as he does so. As if he’d been waiting for the opportunity Shane suddenly grabs Ryan by the hand and tucks him back to his side.

“Dandy!” Shane chirps.

Jean basks in Shane’s enthusiasm.  “Awesome! I’m gonna go get changed and set up the music and we can start…?” he looks to Curly, who nods in agreement and skips off to set up the camera, ready to film their misery. Jean spares them one last smile before walking off himself.

Ryan’s consciousness, however, is nowhere near where his mind is enough for him to smile back.

Shane lets go of him, but Ryan doesn’t move, slowly looking up at him.

“What?”

“Did you just—what…” Ryan shakes his head, smiling in disbelief. “Are you…?”

Shane clears his throat.

“Who knows. Oh would you look at the time! Time to warm up short stack.”

Ryan would’ve come up with a retort if his chest wasn’t so busy being warm and tight at the same time.

* * *

 

Jean is Satan.

To be fair he did warn them beforehand. When Curly filmed his opening exposition about dance and waltz he stressed just how much work and effort is put into the art form, and how Ryan and Shane’s got to have at least some spirit in them to accomplish even the most basic form of waltz in the week.

It wasn’t too hard at first. Jean reintroduced the stepping—“The counting, boys, remember!”—and easily enough, they both got that part down in one day flat. A few trips here and there, but they were bearable. It was too easy.

Then came the exercises.

“Ryan honey. Jesus. What are you _doing_? Your leg’s not out far enough and your focusing the balance too much on your _heel_ —“ Jean makes a frustrated sound, tapping his (demon staff)ruler under the calf of Ryan’s outstretched leg. “Feel the stretch? What do you mean no? _Feel_ it otherwise you’re not doing it right!”

Ryan outstretches his leg further to the best of his ability, angling his toe as far up as possible and it’s _excruciating_. He’s already fallen over five times in the past ten minutes, steadily working up to a sixth, and they’ve been going at it for two hours now. Curly’s just laughing at him from the sidelines, reveling in his demise. Ryan could see the upcoming epic fails montage: Bergara edition from a mile away.

Shane on the other hand, is doing more than great. In fact great is too much of an understatement. He’s been _flawless_.

Ryan subtly watches his partner out of the corner of his eye, stretching his legs forward and backward, toe angling in and out just right, long limbs all working so effortlessly with a sharp look of concentration. Witnessing such thing after everything they’ve been through makes him wonder if all that’s happened is just one purely exaggerated fever dream lest he finally collapses due to exhaustion. He exhales a bitter sigh, using his bicep to rub sweat off of his forehead.

“Great work Shane,” Jean compliments with a smile(Shane breaks focus to smile back, Ryan not so subtly wishing he falls over), attention immediately snapping back to Ryan right after, “And I _heard that_ Mr. Bergara. Get those muscles a’ stretchin’!”

Curly’s eating this all up, zooming in on Jean’s face. Shane snickers. Ryan manages to glare at him over Jean’s shoulder and Shane merely responds with a shrug, not breaking his stance.

At least, not until Jean enters Ryan’s personal space.

“Arms up. Come on.” Jean walks up to him from behind and casually braces his arms under Ryan’s, lifting them higher while his knee works on bending Ryan’s even further. The position doesn’t exactly feel intimate, but the proximity’s close enough that he can feel Jean breathing down his neck. “Try to maintain the position in this stance long enough, so it’ll be much easier to transition back to it later.”

Ryan nods, bending down and trying not to grow stiff so much when a particularly loud bang resounds throughout the room. Something inside him immediately flips with concern.

They both turn to see Shane on the ground, holding on to his foot on the floor of the studio.

Jean separates from Ryan straight away, checking on the tall man, “Oh no, what happened?”

“Um.” Shane starts, awkwardly sitting upright. “I tripped.” He says apologetically, in the way Ryan knows he’s not apologetic about it at all.

He squints at Shane in suspicion, worried thoughts thrown out the window as Jean helps him up. “You were doing so well!”

“Thank you. I’ll be fine. Was just a small fall.” He winks at Ryan. “Ain’t too different from the last 600 times Ryan’s done it.”

“That’s just because I don’t have as much leg as you to maneuver,”

“Right, because you’re the expert.”

Shane gets a flat look in return and Jean claps. “I guess this calls for a short break! Five minutes boys. Stay on your toes Shane.” He warns kindly, though Shane visibly relaxes after he turns around to go shut off the music.

“Marry me?” Shane asks once Jean’s out of earshot.

Ryan clicks his tongue. “After a scene like that?”

A sigh of frustration.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.” Shane says casually, walking away in stride. “It’s just that these kinds of things would be _so_ much easier if I had a ring on you.”

Ryan’s not too sure how to respond to that.

* * *

 

_Day 217_

“Shane’s trying to kill me,” Ryan tells his phone camera while Jean locks up the studio in the background. He turns the camera to Shane who is holding up the poison he’d tried feeding Ryan with just a few seconds earlier, silently admiring how the streetlamp nearby illuminates Shane’s features with a sharp orange hue. “I can’t go on like this. There’s no one to trust.”

Shane rolls his eyes, cold breath materializing briefly as he exhales. “Dude, it’s _just_ a protein shake.”

“It’s an abomination.” Ryan corrects, flipping the cam back to his disgusted face. “Too sweet and tastes like it has more calories than it should contain. Completely defeats its purpose.”

The phone is flipped back with Shane’s free hand. “He’s too mean to me.”

“No I’m not. I just know my protein shakes.”

“Meanie.”

“Hush children.” Jean laughs, stepping in between the both of them. Curly follows, camera in hand and a loose backpack slung over his shoulder. Ryan puts his phone away before looking back and prods at it, wondering what’s inside before Curly snatches it away.

Ryan scoots away and closer to Shane, eyeing the bag carefully. “Suspicious.”

Curly wags a finger disapprovingly, “Not until the big night sweetheart.”

“Stop carrying that thing around if you don’t want Ryan getting his grubby little hands all over it.”

Ryan frowns. “Don’t call my hands grubby. Or little.”

Shane ducks his head in a slow bow. “Sorry princess.”

Ryan scoffs, bumping shoulders with him. In retaliation, Shane bumps back, and it goes back and forth until they just start laughing at how stupid they are, not realizing that either of them  hadn't left each others space.

Slowly, reluctantly, Shane’s arm slips behind his back, around his waist. Ryan looks up in shock, taking in the now slightly wary look on Shane’s face and he feels it again. The tight _, guilty, shitty feeling—_

“They’re so cute!” They both turn at Jean’s gushing voice, the man bent down to accommodate Curly’s height. Ryan would stifle a laugh if he wasn’t so confused—the two look like an 80s comedy duo standing next to each other like that. “Did the fans know about this?”

“I didn’t.” Curly smirks. “But I had a hunch.”

Shane snorts.

“As if we weren’t already that obvious to begin with.”

Ryan feels the night still.

He takes in Jean and Curly’s gaping faces, barely acknowledging his own, as he looks up at Shane and blinks. Shocked out of his mind. Shane must’ve realized it too, because he mirrors Ryan’s expression, sleepy eyes wide and afraid.

“Shane…”

The two other men look at each other and quietly bid the both of them goodbye, not expecting them to respond as they casually walk in the opposite direction. Neither Shane nor Ryan even notice, too caught up in each other.

After a minute, or a year, Ryan clears his throat first, snapping them both out of it. Shane laughs nervously before stepping away, and Ryan misses the heat he’d provided immediately.

Still, nobody talks, not for a while. It’s at some point that one of them starts walking down the sidewalk, the other following. They walk side by side past the streetlamps and the cool night breeze. It’s awfully quiet on this part of L.A., Ryan notices. He’d have to call an Uber before he could hope for any sign of civilization, but he’s too busy walking with Shane to do so.

 _Are we really that obvious?_ Ryan thinks, lagging a little behind so he could get a good look at Shane’s face. He looks sleepier than usual, under the light of the streetlamps like this. Maybe he is. It feels weird to be this quiet with him when even aliens(that definitely do exist) would be able to hear their bickering voices from the heavens. The silence is good though, not exactly new with the added weight it has to it…but it’s serene. Calm. Comfortable in a way only Shane could make him feel.

_Is that a good thing?_

Ryan wants to ask. He couldn’t just leave. He doesn’t want to either.

What comes out of his mouth is something entirely different.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?”

Ryan’s not looking at him, but he hears the slight but abrupt scrape of Shane’s boots against the pavement when he stops, slowly turning to see the flushed look on the man’s face already looking at him. The wariness. The uncertainty. He smiles.

Everything feels way too fragile, _that_ Shane must know.

“…of course.” Shane whispers, like there isn’t any other answer. “Do you want to?”

“Yeah…I do.”

“…are you sure?”

Ryan can’t decide whether to hate him or love him, just for asking. “Uh—I mean, I don’t know. Show time’s only one more day to go. We could practice? Um, maybe?”

Shane had a half pensive, half amused look on his face, but ultimately decides not to call Ryan out on this one. “Alright. Call an Uber?”

“Gotcha.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

Ryan flips him off.

* * *

 

 “Shane this is weird.”

Shane rolls his eyes. There’s more than enough room to dance and move around in Shane’s apartment now that they’ve set the furniture aside, but Ryan still finds himself eyeing the coffee table in his periphery. And the TV. And the small random ass knick knacks at the shelf by the corner next to another shelf with Shane’s plethora of books and Mission Impossible DvDs and—the thought, the _thought_ , of tripping over anything and breaking shit and having to pay Shane for it is bothering him to fuck knows what end because how are they supposed to talk things out if he owes him money much less love and affection an—

“Ryan?”

Ryan shoots him a look. “Huh?”

“Marry me?”

“Shane—“

“Chill.” Shane says, a hand up waiting for Ryan to hold with his own. “Come here and chill.”

“Oh shut up Shane.” Ryan shuffles on his legs. “What if I break something?”

“You won’t. Come here.”

“But—“

“Come _here_ , Ryan.”

Ryan must not look very nonchalant as he tries to be, because the look Shane’s giving him is the exact same one he has when Ryan’s losing his mind because of what’s hidden in the unknown. And well, he wouldn’t be very far off.

This moment has got everything to do with the strange and unknown.

And Ryan’s losing his goddamn mind.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Ryan asks Shane from across the room, arms bracing around his middle. He tries to make the question come out as something about the dancing because that’s what they’re doing. That’s what they came to Shane’s apartment for. To dance.

Maybe it was the crack in his voice, or the self-conscious stance in which he held himself, but Shane must know. He must know about the loudness of Ryan’s rumbling thoughts and thudding heart. It’s all that echoes around the room, the music from the stereo that they’re gonna be dancing to coming on faint in contrast. Ryan tries to focus on it, but it’s already come to a close, ready to repeat itself.

In timing, Shane smiles softly and raises his hand for Ryan again.

“I do,”

Ryan silences his thoughts and breathes.

He goes across the room to Shane when the music starts. He follows the steps carefully, eyes darting anywhere but at Shane.

He takes Shane’s hand, but he doesn’t look up.

_You're in my arms_

_And all the world is calm_

_The music playing on for only two_

Ryan’s changed into Shane’s sweats, because they had a mutual agreement that changing back into the clothes they’ve worn earlier is stupid and gross, and Ryan’s spare jeans don't really give his leg room to move so much as he needs to. The problem though, is that he has to try so hard not to trip over himself at how freaking long and big Shane’s clothes are, and so he uses that excuse to keep his eyes on the floor as they start the routine.

“Look at me, Ry.”

“I’ll trip.”

Though the truth is, he has already solved this problem by rolling up the ends a few minutes earlier.

Shane twirls him unexpectedly, and Ryan raises a brow at him when he turns back around. “What was that fo—?”

“Hi there.” Shane greets when Ryan’s eyes finally meet his. “Great to see you.”

Ryan swallows. “Yeah. Hi.”

_A life goes by_

_Romantic dreams must die_

_So I bid my goodbye_

_And never knew_

_So close, was waiting_

_Waiting here with you_

“These aren’t the steps.”

“I know.”

The hand on Shane’s shoulder squeezes a little as Ryan whispers, “Then what exactly are we doing, Shane?”

“I don’t know,” Shane whispers back. They stop in unison, letting Ryan roll out, and roll back in slowly, his back against Shane’s chest, their arms around him. “But we’re making it work, aren’t we?”

_And now, forever, I know_

_All that I wanted_

_To hold you_

_So close_

“Jean held you this close didn’t he,”

Ryan sputters out a laugh. “So you _were_ jealous!”

Though in time with the music, Shane spins him a little more sharply. “Hm,”

“Oh you big baby,” Ryan laughs, slowing them down so he could turn back around, bringing his arms up around Shane’s neck just as the music pauses. “You could’ve just told me, y’know.”

“Yeah, but...”

Shane trails off, shaking his head.

Ryan lifts up his chin.

“Hi there,”

Shane returns his grin, but Ryan doesn’t miss his eyes dim before the man twirls him around again.

_So close to reaching_

_That famous happy end_

_Almost believing_

_This one's not pretend_

Shane tried to twirl Ryan again, but Ryan kept the stepping going. He held Shane’s gaze, and Shane held his.

Now would be a good time to say it.

_And now you're beside me_

_And look how far we've come_

“I love you, Ry.”

It was so quiet, but Ryan couldn’t hear anything else.

_So far we are, so close_

Shane lifted him up.

He was no Patrick, but boy was Ryan surprised at the sudden move. Ryan laughs, hands gripping Shane’s shoulders as he spun them around the room. It doesn’t stop when Shane puts him down, because they continue spinning around each other, stepping be damned. They take turns twirling each other, feet stepping over the other as their non-stop wheezes of laughter filled the room.

Ryan’s heart only ever switched moods so quickly with Shane.

_Oh how could I face the faceless days_

_If I should lose you now_

_We're so close to reaching_

_That famous happy end_

_Almost believing_

_This one's not pretend_

Suddenly, big, warm hands grasp Ryan on each side of his face, and they pause.

“Ry, be mine. Please.”

“Shane…”

“I love you, I always have for years now.”

Ryan feels his chest go even tighter with each word. He should be saying that. He should at least say it back.

“God damn it, Shane.” He says. That’s wrong. That’s not what he was supposed to say.

Shane just looks at him expectantly, eyes gleaming. Ryan doesn’t want to ruin the moment; This. Them. He doesn’t want to ever lose it.

He just wants all for himself.

But his throat constricts tighter, and tighter.

And what comes out of his mouth is something else entirely.

“I’m sorry.”

Before Ryan could decide if he could handle seeing the broken look on Shane’s face, he brings his hands up and gently presses their foreheads together. “Can…can I at least think about it?”

“…if that’s what you want then,” Shane says quietly, sounding so fragile, but hopeful. “…sure, Ryan. Whatever makes you happy.”

_For we know we are_

_So close, so close_

Ryan pulls back, trying to push back the guilt that’s now openly eating at him.

“…will you still wait?”

For me?

The smile Shane gives him is exhausted.

“Always.”

_And still so far._

* * *

 

_Day 218_

Ryan doesn’t go to rehearsal today.

The ball is tomorrow, and Jean wanted to get one last rehearsal in before he could deem them ready for the big night. Sadly, it’s not gonna happen. He’s going to be so pissed.

But Ryan keeps his promise.

He thinks about it.

Since he pussied out and came home the night before, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t leave his bed as he thought about it. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a bite from the fridge at some point, but went straight back to bed after and thought about it some more.

When he checks his phone late into the afternoon with not a single word from Shane, he still doesn’t have an answer.

* * *

 

_2 hours till Day 219_

It’s a bit strange for somebody to be lying in bed all day and not fall asleep at some point, but here he is. Awake. Staring at the darkness. His mind blank and his heart full.

Nothing’s wrong.

Shane loves him. Ryan loves him too. Shane stays over so often it’s become fairly normal to wake up next to him in the morning. Work isn’t disturbed by what they have, so the show is going along fine. When Ryan sees that Shane is happy just to see him every single day, he’s happy too. So what’s wrong? What’s _wrong_?

Ryan doesn’t know if he doesn’t know, or if he’s just not being honest with himself.

But what does it matter now, anyway?

Shane probably gave up on him already.

He turns his phone on again. No texts. No calls. Just the time.

10:12PM.

_“Hey Ryan,” Shane says one day, rolling his chair closer to his. “Will you marry me?”_

So, that’s how everything started.

And this is how it all ends.

…that’s alright.

It’s not like Ryan was waiting.

* * *

 

_15 minutes till Day 219_

Ryan doesn’t wake up to his phone buzzing ten minutes prior. What he does wake up to is the sound of his front door shutting.

This startles him awake of course, joined with a short wave of panic at the thought of somebody breaking into his apartment.  That is until he picks up his phone to dial 911 and see that he three missed calls from Shane and one text message.

Before he could open it though, he hears footsteps getting closer and turns off his phone, feigning sleep.

His bedroom door opens.

Ryan doesn’t hear anything for a moment until a sigh breaks through the silence, followed by hesitant footsteps leading to the unoccupied side of Ryan’s bed. The mattress dips as whoever it is settles down next to him gently, and not long after, the familiar warmth of a chest against his back and a long, lanky arm looping around his middle makes Ryan breathe out calmly.

“Hey.” Shane whispers.

Ryan doesn’t say anything.

Nothing is said for the next few minutes, and Ryan nearly thought he fell asleep until the man starts again.

“…I’m really sorry, Ryan.” Shane muffles at the top of Ryan’s head. “I really am. I just…I came here to tell you that. I’m sorry. I never meant to pressure you into this whole…this thing. Us. I just—“  His voice cracks, and Ryan feels his own chest getting tight at the words. “I love you. And I mean it. But it doesn’t mean you have to say it back or…be mine. I don’t want you to think that. Ever.”

When Ryan still stays quiet, Shane sighs, “You know…I will admit that at the beginning, I meant it as a joke. I _did_ like you—God, I have since forever but for some fucked up reason I—it was Jen. Kelsey and Jen were playing kiss marry kill…and we were both options. She chose you to marry and I was…I had this stupid idea that ‘oh, if I ask him as casually as possible then it’s no problem right? Then I could know how he really feels about me and I could just brush it off as a joke’ but…yeah. Your reaction was priceless, so I did it again. And again. And… I kept the bit going for so long I don’t even remember when I started…meaning it.”

Shane’s nearly out of breath at this point, and Ryan couldn’t help but hold in his own. He could feel Shane’s tears making his hair damp. Ryan swallows.

“I don’t…I want you to know that you can tell me to stop anytime you want me to.” Shane says, voice getting more and more silent with each word. “If you want me to stop pressuring you I will. Anything Ryan. Just…please, forgive me if I made you—“

Before he could say anymore, Ryan rolls over and plants his face in Shane’s chest, holding the man tightly.

“Ryan…?”

Ryan shushed him.

“But—“

“Shane.” He says, looking back to look up at Shane’s face. The faint light of the moon coming through his window isn’t enough to let him see anything more than the taller mans silloette, but his glossy eyes are clear as day. Ryan looks into them, trying to will his own sleepy eyes to stay open.

“W…What is it?”

“Shane.” Ryan says again. “I love you too.”

Ryan doesn’t see it, but he can feel Shane’s shock in his stiff form. He slowly brings his hands up, brings Shane’s head down so he could press their foreheads together.

“…it’s true that…for a moment, it did feel like I didn’t have a choice.” Ryan says, choosing his words carefully, “But you know…I’ve loved you for a long fucking time too. And you…you actually helped me realize it. To realize that you were never really just another coworker, or another friend, you were…Shane.” He hiccups, smiling with tears streaming down his face, as little of it Shane might see. “And I’m in love with you. Fuck I’m so in love with you, alright?”

Ryan strokes his cheeks with his thumb, sobbing out a laugh. “And I’m sorry too, that it’s taken me this long to say it back.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Shane whispers, his sniffles too adorable for Ryan not to laugh at. “Don’t ever be fucking sorry for that shit. Goddamn it Ryan. That was the best thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“…I just…I couldn’t believe it at first you know?” Ryan says, shifting back so he could see Shane better. “You actually want to be…together…with me…and that was just—it felt so much more different from the proposals. They were more there to keep us where we are now but when you asked me to be yours that—“ Ryan breathes in, “…it proposed something entirely different. Something more. And that fucking scared me.”

“As anyone would be of commitment Ryan, and I don’t blame you.”

“No. I don’t blame you either.” Ryan says. “Because yes, Shane. I…want to be yours too.”

“…are you serious?”

Ryan nods even though Shane can’t see it. “Yes.”

“So you’re…we’re…?”

“Yeah Shane. It’s official.”

Shane is quiet, but he pulls Ryan right back in and holds him. Ryan holds him back, feeling Shane’s wide smile pressing against his forehead. They both stay like that, silently laughing to themselves in the dark of night, shrouded in nothing but their own little world of bliss.

Ryan takes his phone out from where he’s put it beside his head and turns around to put it back on his nightstand. He turns it on, and the time flashes on both their faces.

11:59PM.

Just as he does, Shane easily spoons him again.

“Hey Ry…will you marry me?”

Ryan snorts, his heart impossibly full.

“You fucking dork.”

“I am.” Shane hums. “But I’m also your boyfriend now. And that makes it okay.”

Ryan couldn’t deny that.

And he never will again.

* * *

 

_Day 219_

Apparently, the mystery thing in Curly’s backpack happened to be a fresh pair of suits he personally picked out just for the both of them. Ryan was thrilled, as he had completely forgotten that his arms had outgrown all his past ones(“It was an easy prediction, really.”), and Shane had been too, but for no reason in particular. He was just happy to have a new suit.

Under all the extravagant decorations and aesthetically blue and purple lights, plus the eyes of all their coworkers and Curly’s camera, Ryan and Shane were miraculously able to execute their performance almost perfectly. It went exactly as planned, and when Ryan spared a few glances at Jean watching from the sidelines, he just knew they were already forgiven for not showing up on the last day of practice. Sure, he nearly missed a few steps because he got lost in Shane’s eyes one too many times, but it all flowed naturally for them in the end. They finished the dance without any real damage, and everybody cheered. What wasn’t planned, however, was when Shane gave Ryan one last dip and kissed him square on the lips.

So that is how they’ve officially gone public to quite possibly everyone they ever knew and the internet.

And honestly?

 Ryan wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello i am back i am active and this story is coming to a close soon :( but anyone who's stuck even through that long ass hiatus thank you. you are a champ.
> 
> tell me what you think! how much you hate me for making you wait or thoughts on the chappy lol im not picky. also i have[ tumblr](https://sacrificed-apple.tumblr.com/) now, come say hi :)

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Made a sideblog for bfu and writing stuffz. Come visit here :3


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